A Hunter or Something
by Coeur Al'Aran
Summary: Jaune was a hunter, hunting animals from a young age. Not Grimm, and never people. Not like the so-called 'real' Hunters he wanted nothing to do with. But when an absent sister asks him to help rescue a missing student, Jaune Arc and Lie Ren will both have to put aside their differences and learn what it means to be true Huntsmen if they're to survive the Grimmlands.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is the new story, and it'll be a little different from what you're used to. I might not even write these notes at the top in the future, though we'll see. For now, it might be best as a way for me to explain. This is not my story, or at least it's not my idea or plan. College Fool will not be the beta for this one, but the director. The story is College Fool's, but as a gift for all the hard work done on my fics, I offered to write this one – mostly because my ridiculous pacing actually allows me to write and knock things out, and partly because CF is better at planning than writing. As such, while most of this will be written by me, CF has the final say on many things, and will doubtless decide on things I don't always agree on. This is just a fair warning for you all. At most, I am the beta and writer. CF makes all decisions.**

 **Either way, in** _ **all**_ **of these chapters, the writing will be mine, but CF handles just about everything, from pairing to decisions made. On one last note, this is NOT-CANON to the Coeur-universe (if you want to call it that). As such, you won't see any of the names of people or places as being similar. This is standalone AU in College Fool's world.**

 **It also means CF will no doubt drag me into things I'm known full-well to despise. Arc words, anyone? *Screams***

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

"Please, Jaune. I'm begging you…"

The message ended with a dull click, the rickety and dented machine he'd borrow from the store whirring a little before it went silent. He'd listened to it ten or more times now and could recount the contents from memory.

But that didn't make it any easier.

Jaune turned away and toward the door, passing by the wooden table with chairs aligned around it. It was a large thing that dominated the middle of the cabin, and although many of the chairs were covered in dust from lack of use, he couldn't bring himself to push it up against the wall. It was probably the most valuable piece of furniture he had, and not just for sentimental reasons. Simple, inelegant, but well-made, it had been crafted by his father, though he could remember there being several mistakes in the making.

It had meaning though. He'd miss it for however long this took, though he'd always have the memories. With a soft sigh and a mixed smile, Jaune brushed his fingers against the familiar wood before taking the four or five paces it took to reach the door where his bow hung. Picking it up and shouldering it with practiced ease, Jaune turned for one last look inside.

"I'm going out," he called to whoever might hear.

There was no answer, because there was no one here. He'd known that, but...

Old habits, he supposed.

Grass gave way to mud and well-worn tracks as Jaune made his way into Edge. The morning mists had just given way to the early sun, but there was still a touch of moisture on the air that hinted at coming rain. He sniffed at it lightly and closed his eyes. It smelled like a shower, perhaps even a squall, or the long-awaited start of the rainy season.

Weather awaited by some, anyway. Others would not look quite so forward to it. The miners and SDC especially would have their problems, but they'd adapt as always. The sandbags would be brought out, people would be paid to place them same as last year, and no matter the deluge it wouldn't flood the mine that the frontier settlement was built around.

Edge was a mining town before anything else, after all. Situated on the frontier, the very point where Kingdom territory gave way to unclaimed Wildlands, and what most considered doomed territory. Only the lost or the desperate made such places their home, and Edge had its fair share of that. Most frontier towns – if they could be called such – were little more than buffer settlements. Little niches of human life that might exist one moment and be gone the next, a candle flickered out of existence at the slightest breeze. They protected the prominent towns and cities, however, acting as a wall of human bodies to keep the Grimm away from the `important places`. Places like Vale, or Patch, hidden behind their high walls and mighty protectors.

Most frontier towns lasted anywhere between five and twenty-five years, though some never made it close to that number. But Edge…? Edge was different.

Edge was a Company Town.

Existing for the sole purpose of the dust mine it was built around, it served as a base of operations for the Schnee Dust Corporation, and that brought with it several important factors. First of all, stable employment. Not good employment, not even close, but stable enough to support livelihoods and ensure people came to settle. More than that, however, was the dust and wealth associated with it. Edge was profitable for the SDC, which meant it was important enough to invest in, important enough to protect…

The SDC were reliable on when they paid, and not overly picky on exactly who worked for them. More than that, they protected their assets. So long as the Dust could be mined, Edge would be protected- which was why it was almost two decades old already.

Jaune's family cabin was on the outskirts of the town, which meant a pleasant walk each morning, and a chance to be closer to nature – both of which were bonuses in his mind. His was among five or six others, surrounded by a tiny picket wall, and more a miniature hunting community than anything else. It was perilously close to the frontier, but that was fine.

That was where the good hunting was.

The walls of Edge were a fair bit taller, and a good deal more substantial. The base was stone packed up upon itself, and about five feet tall, the remaining ten to fifteen being wood topped with leather and oils to protect it from the heavy rains. It would have remained at just that for any other frontier town, but being of interest to the SDC, it was also topped with razor wire, and had metal spikes facing outwards secured into the base. The other side was reinforced, too, and there were spotlights – currently turned off – that dotted the parapet. The SDC-uniformed guards at the gate spared him a glance as he entered, but nothing more. They recognised him by face, and even if they didn't, the only thing they were to protect the town from was Grimm, raiders and the occasional White Fang appearance. There was a large dog on a lead by one of them, and he could hear more barking inside the walls.

From the inside, Edge bustled with more life than he'd ever seen it have before. Upwards of ten people filled the courtyard before the gate, and there must have been thirty more hurrying to the mines for morning work. Many of them he recognised, and some waved and exchanged greetings as they passed. He smiled back sincerely, but didn't stop. That was until one of his usual customers pulled him aside.

"Ey Jaune, good to see ya," the faunus greeted with a smile. His dog-shaped ears fell loose beside his head, one with a nasty cut in it. His voice was rough, more from his growling lisp than anything else, but the smile was friendly, even if his teeth were stained. "You got any grub you be sellin'?"

"Not today, Dogpatch," Jaune apologised, smiling at the miner. "Didn't come to sell. Maybe another time."

The faunus' face fell, and he shot Jaune a hard look. "You ain't just sayin' that so you be sellin' it to others for more, are you?" He tossed his head to the side. "You knows I don't make more but what dem Schnee folks pay me!"

"Dogpatch… when have I ever done that to anyone?" Jaune smiled and rolled his eyes, even as the man opposite him muttered an apology. "You know Mom would tan my hide if she ever caught me double-charging, and that's before if Uncle got wind of it. Fair's fair for everyone, not just some."

It was an old adage his Uncle had drilled into him, and one he'd clung to despite the way the world refused to agree with it. Fair was fair. Didn't matter whether you liked them or not.

"I didn't come here to sell, but I do have some extra food that might go bad while I'm away. You can have it if you're interested." Jaune reached into his pack and pulled out a bag of dried meat. "The usual rate?"

Dogpatch dropped his scowl and stepped forward, drawing him into a tight embrace. His protests went ignored as usual. He scrunched his nose against the man's healthy scent. "That's wha' I like 'bout you Arcs," he said. "That and the other thing you lot always say. Speakin' of…"

Jaune laughed and patted his pockets down. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, a small bag with a variety of brightly coloured flowers and plants. He tossed it to the miner. "Here you go… just as I promised."

"Yeah, yeah," Dogpatch cut him off, but there was no cruelty to it. His hazy eyes shone, looking down at the bag in his hands, treating the tiny petals within as if they were made from glass. He looked up with fragile hope. "Will this really be enough?"

"It will," Jaune said, nodding. "That's Fever Flower – only grows in sandy areas, and these roots can be made into a poultice. I had to go pretty deep into the Wildlands to find that, so make it last. If you take it to Aggie's Apothecary, she'll be able to mix up something to make your wife's leg better."

"Thank ye, me boy." Dogpatch sniffed. "My Maria's been in such pain, but the Schnee Doc couldn't do anything, and the next medical shipment is a month or more away. Thank ye! City med'cine is just too expensive. I can pay Aggie back with some help fixin' up 'er place, but I need to work and can't leave mah Maria."

"Don't worry about it, Dogpatch. If anything you should thank Uncle Jaque the next time you see him. He's the one who taught me about it. Besides, it doesn't cost me anything to help you out. It's what a hunter does, help people in need."

"What dey could," Dogpatch said. "Maybe even what dey should, but you know as well as I, life ain't always tha' kind. Some of dem new ones arrives yesterday. Saw 'em in the company store. Gave me a look that said they'd as soon shove me as 'elp me."

"Huntsmen…" Jaune growled, and he looked the faunus up and down with narrowed eyes. "Did they do anything to you?"

"To me? Nah, nuthin', boy." He coughed awkwardly and changed the subject. "So, Jaune, my lad… I was thinkin' of inviting you to dinner with the family after you found them flowers. Still want to thank you, even if I ain't got the coin to pay you." He smiled pleasantly. "I bet Debbie would be pleased to see ya…"

"Sorry, Dogpatch," he politely declined. "I'm going out with those Hunters on a mission, so I won't be around much longer."

"And Debby?" Dogpatch tried.

"Dogpatch," Jaune tried to address this topic once again. "Debby's a nice girl," and she was, even if she had a dog face without needing to be a faunus, "but she doesn't like blood. I'm a hunter- I kill animals all the time, and then bring back their corpses. If she doesn't have the heart to see blood and still smile, it wouldn't work out."

"At least she wouldn't go hungry," Dogpatch muttered. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to (re)introduce Jaune and his daughter.

"She could always go to Vale and find a job," Jaune suggested. "Make more money than you do in the mine." He wasn't sure how, or what she could do- but everyone knew that the Kingdoms were the places to go for jobs. That's what his sisters had said, anyway.

Dogpatch barked a laugh. "Over my dead body," he vowed. "Dem city folk- they like faunus even less den the Schnees do, and poor desperate girls even worse than faunus. I came out here to get away from all dat garbage, of resentment and rebel Fangs and all dat. Well, dat and to get out o' a cell. Out here, at least, people care more about if you do da job than what you look like doin' it. Country's better."

Jaune nodded to the voice speaking from experience. "True enough," he agreed. He looked for a polite way to break the conversation and move on. "Need to get to the company store before I go. Maybe dinner the next time I'm back?" he asked.

Dogpatch nodded. "Stay livin', Jaune. Mah missus would cry if ya died."

"I'd be a poor hunter if I did, Dogpatch. I'll see you around."

/-/

Jaune knew his day wouldn't remain so peaceful and calm, even before his old friend's warning about disturbances in town. He barely made it ten minutes before he ran into one such example, and his hand fell instinctively to his collapsible bow when he heard a scream. No arrow was nocked, and he didn't draw back the spring, mostly because the sound wasn't terrified enough to suggest Grimm, but also because the victim flew out of the nearby tavern and landed at his feet. The saloon-style doors flapped behind him, and there was a sound like breaking glass from inside.

The man was someone he recognised but didn't know, a familiar face he'd sold meat to before, but little more. He groaned in pain, but it didn't look like anything was broken, even if the bruises were pretty deep. He wouldn't be working in the morning - that much was clear. Wouldn't be earning the money he'd need for painkillers, either.

 _Let it go,_ his mind said. _Ignore it and move on._

His feet carried him past, but something made him pause. It wasn't the man, groaning as he was, or anything else he could put his finger on – only a dull sense of disappointment, maybe at himself. He tugged at the red bandanna wrapped about his arm and bit his lip. Damn it all…

With a sigh, he turned back and pushed his way into the tavern.

The evidence of a fight was everywhere. As it should be, he supposed, since the guy outside hadn't knocked himself out on the door. Tables and chairs were smashed and glass littered the floor, crunching underfoot. Servers and waiters huddled against the walls, some of the younger, braver, ones moving to try and drag groaning victims away.

There were plenty of those. Men, women, faunus… all were equal in something like this. The only one that remained, but for the staff, was a blonde girl. More of a young woman on second glance, especially with the dimensions she boasted. The curves spoke of a woman, but while they might have been mature, well…

"Now that this is all settled, how about that drink I asked for?" the girl asked. If her tone didn't make it clear it wasn't a question, the aftermath did. "Don't worry about the ID. Besides, I think these guys wanted to buy me a drink anyway, right boys?"

Several of the injured groaned.

Blondie grinned. "See? I'd like a strawberry sunrise."

"I don't got the drinks for that, Miss," the bartender, Phil, said. He was shaking slightly, but composed himself as best he could. A stranger might have thought it nothing more than fear, or nerves from being so near a pretty girl. Jaune knew better. He'd spent time and shared drinks with the man, enough to know Phil had seen things. Things he didn't like to talk about, things that brought on shakes when dust and force were involved.

"What do you mean you don't?" Blonde demanded. "Don't be holding out on me just because we're in the sticks."

 _Breathe. Hold. Let it go…_

Jaune slid into the seat beside the girl.

"Everything okay, Phil?"

Phil dropped the mug he'd been filling, and struggled to catch it as it fell. But the girl… she leapt out of her seat at the sound of his voice so close. It was obvious she hadn't noticed him approach, and that shocked her.

Less so, Phil, who'd been on the receiving end before.

"Damn it, Jaune!" he exclaimed. "When will you stop doing that?"

"Probably when it stops working," he said with a smile, before that fell to a look of concern. "I mean it, though. Is anyone-?"

Phil looked at Blonde from the corner of his eye, though luckily she didn't see it because she was too busy trying to figure him out. Phil's lips were thin, and as he looked back to Jaune, his eyes were resigned. "It was a fair fight," he said. "At least in terms of who started it…"

"You mean it was an awesome fight," the girl bragged, slipping back into her stool beside Jaune. Her eyes were on the drink Phil put before her, but he could sense her attention was on him. "There I was peacefully minding my own business when some gentleman offers to buy me drinks. Turns out they were punks who tried to fight over me." She sighed and shook her head. "Such a shame…"

Jaune glanced to Phil, and the man gave a subtle half-shake of his head. There was a frown there, however. So, it wasn't the truth, but not entirely false, either.

She'd egged them on.

"That's a shame," Jaune said, eyes on the counter. "I hate to see people hurt over something like this."

"No one was who didn't join in first," she said, and Phil nodded reluctantly. "Shame you weren't there to stop it," she said. "You could have saved me."

His eyes rose to hers for the first time, and then a little higher. The girl was beautiful, with not a hair out of place. These men, on the other hand, continued to groan and drag themselves across the floor.

"Saved, huh?" he whispered. Saved her the trouble, perhaps? Or maybe saved them from her? "A shame I wasn't here."

Blonde's eyes narrowed, and she looked him up and down. He bore it without tension, knowing what she was seeing. The old black hoodie, patched and sewn back together so many times, was gone and in his pack if he needed a spare. Now he wore something better suited to the wilds- a hooded leather hunting jacket, only superficially similar to his childhood wear if all the orange and most of the black had given way to darker greens. The oils used to treat the leather had given it a generally dark green shade, better for blending into the wilderness, and much better for bearing the elements. The oiled leather, and especially the hood, insured rain slid right off without soaking- and gave it a tough-looking look as well. This wasn't the sort of jacket to rip and tear in the brambles, though there were scratches here or there showing where particularly sharp thorns- and in one case, a near-miss from a Grimm- had scratched by. It'd been expensive- he'd invested an entire commission into it as much for the rain-proofing as anything else- but it wasn't a bad jacket by any means. It was rough, and worn, but still new enough that it she shouldn't have much complaint. If he could be vain, it looked tough, tough enough to survive in the wilds.

The rest of his wardrobe, on the other hand, or the man who wore the jacket...

His pants were old, old enough to that they had needed a patch or two on the cargo pockets. Old jeans might have looked better old, but pants with real pockets- the sort of pockets you might actually carry stuff in- weren't so classy. These were old, clearly worn, and only dark because they'd been dyed after getting so dirty that even his mother had given up reclaiming the original color. They might blend in to the woods, but they wouldn't win any beauty contests.

Then again, neither would he. He was... himself, he guessed? Still growing, though more out than up these days. Only tanning on the parts that he left uncovered, which wasn't much most of the time. He was tall. He wasn't lanky. But he wasn't exactly limber either- or at least not fit like an athelete or warrior. He had the muscles for pulling a bow and carrying game, but no more. The top of his head hadn't seen a barber's blade in over a month, and believe or not but neither had the lower half either. But while the top of his mop was long, with only a self-inflicted knife to cut the worst away from his eyes, the bottom still hadn't grown in. At best there was a bit of chin fuzz, six o'clock shadow too blonde to be a shadow. Clearly the face of someone awkwardly in the middle of trying to grow a beard.

Key word, trying. He'd given up hoping anyone besides his mother would notice.

So he wasn't special, but he wasn't an adonis either. Too rough around the edges, too rustic to compete with city fashions or the sort of body builders who could work on their bodies more than actually work. Still, with his bow collapsed and strapped over his back, and a quiver of arrows on his left hip, but most of all the easy posture as he coolly waited for her conclusion without the least bit of fluster...

He wasn't bad. Rugged, perhaps. Outdoorsy. Not fashionable, not by the standards of someone like her, anyway. Her outfit was as impractical as it was attractive, and drew attention to just how clean, healthy and beautiful she was. It made her stand out. His let him blend in.

"I like the jacket," she eventually said. "It's… adventurous." Her eyes dipped a little lower. "Not sure the red works with all that green and black, though."

It was kinder than he'd expected, though no less critical for it. His clothing was functional and little else. He resisted the urge to pull his hood up over his head and pushed away from the bar, one hand coming up to tug the shock of crimson a little higher. He turned to Phil. "I'm headed to the store. Do you want me to pass an order along while I'm there?"

Phil nodded and started to scribble something down on a piece of paper.

"Leaving so soon?" Blonde asked, turning with a sultry smile. She angled one elbow on the bar to better draw attention to her impressive cleavage. "You just got here, and didn't even order a drink. You should stay and kill some time with me."

"I'm not eighteen."

"This isn't the city. They don't even care about that there."

"My Mom would," Jaune said. "Wouldn't yours?"

Her brow creased, and there was a quick flash of frustration that she quickly smoothed over. "Don't be a stick in the mud. I've still got time to kill this morning and you could be the lucky guy to help me pass it. You should feel honoured; it's not every day you get to buy a beautiful huntress a drink."

His breath caught.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let it go…_

"Not interested." He snatched the note from Phil and stashed it away without even looking. He had his own supplies to buy, preparations to make, and people to see. He pushed away from the bar, but the girl caught his arm. His eyes closed. "Let go."

"What's the deal with you?" she asked, somewhere between irritated and incredulous. "Even if you had a girlfriend," which he didn't, "there's no way you should be blowing me off..." She trailed off, eyes widening as a thought clearly only belatedly occurred to her.

"Wait, are you gay? If so, I am _really_ sorry-"

She sounded more apologetic for the minor faux pas than anything else she might have done.

"No!" Jaune snapped, before taking a steadying breath. The irritation was strong with this one, and wouldn't be any less if she were a man. "I like _women_." he affirmed.

"Then what's wrong with you?" the girl asked, honestly perplexed. "You might be nothing special, but I've got to be the hottest girl in this village right now. Normal guys don't turn their nose up at that." She paused. "Well, at least not unless they're trying to get a better angle," she laughed, as if trying to salvage the moment.

Jaune felt his annoyance bubble, but swallowed it down with practised ease. "The hottest girl, huh?"

"Yeah." She let go of him and planted her hands on her hips, adopting a pose that showed off her admittedly tempting figure. "Honestly, who'd you rather spend time with? One to ten, all the girls you've ever seen, how do I rate?"

Ever seen, huh? He considered. She was certainly far prettier than Dogpatch's daughter. And she wanted honesty. Well, fair's fair…

"Twelve, maybe eleven" Jaune admitted.

Blonde nodded, expecting it. "That's right," she not even humble-bragged. "I break the scale. And I'm a Huntress- and yet I'm offering you the chance to spend time-"

"I'm sorry," Jaune insincerely apologized. "I meant twelfth place… as in, I can think of eleven girls I'd rather spend time with than you. Most of them aren't Huntresses either."

Even dog-faced Debbie, who might be ugly, had never put a dozen decent men in need of medical attention just to pass the time. There was Kalie, too, his amicable ex, and even beyond her-

Her arm caught his wrist again, and this time squeezed hard, showing how pissed she was. If it wasn't for the leather bracer on his right arm, he might have had bruises.

"What did you just say?"

"I said you don't even make it into my top ten. You're not the first huntress I've met, and you certainly aren't the most beautiful. I have no interest in spending any time with you."

Blonde didn't let him go- actually cocked her first back to no doubt put him down in one punch- but a man with more sense than he intervened. Phil, veteran and bartender and veteran bartender that he was, reached over the bar to catch the Huntress's arm.

"I'm cutting you off," Phil warned the girl. "Any more, and I'll be contacting Beacon about more than property damage."

Blonde looked at Phil, but reined red eyes back to a violent violet. She gave a contemptuous noise, but released her grip on Jaune in favour of sending him a rude gesture. She left, with a deliberate sway of the hips as she passed through the saloon doors, and was gone.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let it go..._

"That was stupid, Jaune," Phil scolded, not unkindly, as everyone in the room let loose a breath.

"Probably," Jaune admitted. "Got her out of your hair so you could clean up, though," he added. The day's sales were ruined, but new chairs and tables could be brought in in time for the evening rush once the mine closed for the day.

"That wouldn't have been worth you or anyone else getting hurt, Jaune," Phil chided. "I can get reimbursed and replace broken furniture. You can't replace your arm so easily."

Jaune shrugged, but didn't try to deny it. "Sorry," he apologized to Phil without regret.

"I'm not the one who would have been sorry," Phil claimed. "You're here for the expedition she's on, right? If she'd knocked you out, she'd have been the one to regret it. No one smart wants to go into the Wildlands without a guide."

"Wouldn't have mattered," Jaune claimed. "She's just a typical Huntress. Probably wouldn't listen to a backwoods hunter like me in the first place."

Phil sighed. "They're not all like that, Jaune," the war veteran said. "Just…"

Just too many, just each and every one Jaune had met in the last five years? Whatever Phil was going to say, he changed his mind.

"Just go to the store and drop off that order," Phil said instead. "And pick up whatever you need, just in case. It's never a good idea to be on the bad side of Huntresses. Remember, they might need you, and maybe she should have kept her silence – but it's a two way street."

Jaune nodded and stepped away without responding. Being on their bad side, huh?

It might be a little too late for that.

/-/

Edge's general store was actually a company store, which meant that much like everything else here, the SDC owned and operated it. There was one to be found on every corporate enclave across Vale, or so he'd been told. There'd been another store once, but the SDC had the better selection and better quality. Had they run the old store out of business… maybe, but at the same time, the people here needed supplies, and for all that the SDC store wasn't the cheapest, they were reliable.

No one else had the resources to ship food, medicine and clothing across Grimm-infested land, and though it was a running joke that the SDC claimed nine out of every ten lien they paid, Jaune knew most of it probably want to ensuring the goods made it to Edge in the first place.

Not everyone agreed, of course.

"Your prices are outrageous," an impassioned voice cried. "This is exploitation!"

Jaune sighed and stepped into the store.

"Ma'am," the aggrieved cahshier replied, "we aren't forcing you to buy anything from of. If you don't like our prices, you're free to go wherever else you like."

"And what about them?" the girl opposite of him demanded, indicating some of the villagers in the story. "What's the alternative for these people out here?"

Oh great… one of _those_ people.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let it go…_

"Somewhere that isn't here, obviously," the cashier said. Jaune recognized him as Conway, the store manager's son.

"They have nowhere else to go! That's why you think you can get away with this, isn't it? You're just another oppressive racist looking to make everything you can out of the faunus who work here. How can you charge them such high prices? Would you charge a _human_ this much?"

"Ma'am, SDC company policy mandates uniform prices for _all_ customers. I don't choose them – and the only discounts I can even give are employee ones for those who qualify."

Conway was clearly trying to take the high ground, or at least diffuse what could quickly become a dangerous situation. The girl, however, was having none of it.

"And faunus don't qualify, of course," the girl sneered.

"Miners don't qualify at all, human or faunus," Conway's patience finally snapped. "I don't even pay the faunus, and right now I'd happily refuse to hire any at all if it'd make you shut up about pay gaps, but I don't get a say in that! Please step aside."

"No!" The girl slammed her hands down on the counter.

"Ma'am…"

"Just because you don't care doesn't mean that-"

"Ma'am!" Conway interrupted, voice raised. "There's a line."

His cue to step in, he supposed. He stepped up behind her, and then raised a fist to his mouth and coughed when it was obvious she hadn't noticed his approach. "Ahem."

The girl with the black bow jumped like a cat whose tail he'd stepped on. She twirled to face him, hand dipping low. There were gasps as steel was drawn – the situation going from tense to potentially lethal in an instant. The villagers behind him whispered and backed away. It was less a line as Conway had said, and more a crowd of bystanders drawn by the noise.

Luckily, Jaune was out of reach of the blade, though he watched it warily. It didn't look like she intended to use it, its appearance more instinctual than anything else. Did he want to bet on that, however?

Maybe… it didn't look like anyone else was going to. He stepped forward, enough so that the tip poked into his chest.

"Excuse me. May I pass?"

The crowd behind him began to whisper. They always did that, constant gossips and idle hands looking for the latest bit of news. No doubt, they'd tell stories about him for months. The man who almost got stabbed by a huntress, though maybe by then it would have been exaggerated into an army of huntresses, or a story of how he'd crossed all the Wildland and into the Grimmlands to rescue a princess and find true love.

Well… at least it would be good for his reputation.

"Who are you?" the girl asked, eyes narrowed.

"Just a customer," he replied. His eyes trailed above her and to the man behind the counter. "Hey Conway. Phil needs some help with a bulk order – very rushed."

The city girl looked like she wasn't used to being talked over, and looked ready to intervene. Conway, bless him, beat her to it.

"Something happen? What does he need?"

"I'm just the delivery man but I've got a list." He drew forth Phil's note from earlier and waved it in the air. He let his eyes slip to the girl's amber ones again. "Tables and chairs were damaged, so maybe it's that. Then again, it could be medical supplies. Some miners were hurt."

That did the trick. The girl's eyes widened, and with a fraction of a nod, she stepped out of the way, sheathing her weapon. He nodded back and moved towards the counter, laying the list down. Conway took it and read through it.

"Sheesh, what happened? Was there an accident at the mine?"

That set the crowd off again, and all of a sudden there might have been a side story of him rescuing beleaguered miners. He shook his head, cutting it off before it could start.

Maybe it was vindictive, but he looked to the girl once more.

"It was no accident, Conway. Just a huntress at the bar."

The way the black-haired girl paled would have been proof enough, even if he hadn't already guessed it.

"I'll send a few extra first aid bags over right away," Conway said. "I'll mark it down as community relief or something. They let us get away with that every now and then. Let me grab them from storage," he said, moving away. "I'll be back in a moment!"

"I'll wait."

The crowd dissipated when Conway vanished behind a door. With the huntresses' weapon put away, and the argument over, they had no reason to keep watching. That was nice, but it left him alone with the girl in an enclosed space. The tension felt thick enough to stop an arrow.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let it go…_

"This huntress," she eventually said, not quite meeting his eyes. Her voice stuttered. "Did she-?"

"No one died," he said. "Can't say much for broken bones, though…"

She let out a quick breath. "That's a relief."

Jaune's lips pulled down. "Not really. If they have broken bones, they won't be able to work in the mines. If they can't work, they'll be out of pocket until they can." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, thinking of Dogpatch. "Someone's family probably has some hard times ahead… especially if they can't pay for medicine."

Most of them couldn't. Most would grit their teeth and ride through the agony, food for their families more important than personal comfort.

"That's just… that's wrong," city-girl said. "The SDC should support them until they recover."

"Huh?" Jaune looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "What does the SDC have to do with this? It's not like it was a mine accident or anything. Why should they pay medical bills for something a huntress does?"

She winced at the blow, and that at least made her better in his eyes than the other. Despite that, she didn't back down. "Those miners need the money to support their families," she said. "Don't you feel the SDC owes its employee's families that much? How are they supposed to get by without it?"

"They could work in the mines themselves." Jaune suggested.

It wasn't like the SDC were picky about who they employed. If you wanted to work, they'd pay you for it. What you earned and not a lien more, but on time and without argument. It was what you earned for an honest day's work. No more, no less. Even if you could argue they owed you more, and sure, they definitely could have afforded to owe the faunus a little more – but who didn't feel that way nowadays?

He felt the Wildlands would have been better with less Grimm and more game, but life wasn't that easy – not for him, the miners, or the SDC themselves.

"How could you-?" City-girl glared at him, but refrained from throwing words like `barbaric` or `monstrous` around. Probably because she knew he'd just point out it was a huntresses' fault again. "What if the family is too young to work," she asked instead, "Or if they can't because they're injured or sick?"

"Then they find something else to do that they like better," he said. "Or they don't eat."

Obviously…

He hadn't liked the thought of a lifetime in the mines either, so he'd gone off to the Wildlands instead and hunted his own food. Found herbs, and when times were hard and that wasn't enough, he found ways to make himself useful by finding things or scouting land. Sure, it hadn't paid much at first, but it kept food on the table, and it let him choose how he wanted to live his life.

City-girl gave him a look filled with contempt, as though he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "And I thought the SDC were bad." she muttered. "Back home, we actually care for our people. It's not perfect and racism divides us, but at least we don't pretend poverty is a choice. When people need help, we help them. We protect them from what we can, and we don't forget about them when they're inconvenient." Her eyes flashed to his. "Not like you people. Not like out here."

That ignorant little bitch...

Jaune's hand jumped to his bandana, gripping it as tightly as he fought for control. Jaune closed his eyes, feeling the familiar fabric as he gripped tight, before he took a breath and took refuge in the memories.

In the space of a heartbeat he thought of the things she didn't know, things she'd never care about. He remembered selling his game at a fair rate to hungry miners, and occasionally letting people believe he couldn't tell his weights apart – giving them a little more than they'd paid for when he knew times were rough.

He remembered keeping an eye out for fever flower for weeks because Dogpatch's wife was sick, all with nothing more in it for him than a dinner and Debbie's ugly smile. He remembered young waiters in the saloon trying to drag the injured away – and even Conway, nothing more than a minor clerk, using a loophole to help some wounded miners, never once asking if they were faunus or human.

He remembered those times and hundreds more. Edge was a community, and you didn't make it long without being willing to look after one another. He remembered those times, and reminded himself that it was proof he wasn't anything like this person.

When he opened his eyes again, they were tranquil- but anything but warm.

"Is that Kingdom compassion the reason your friend put a dozen people on the floor out of boredom? Is that why she's here, to share a little of her compassion with us? Maybe we weren't ready for it." He sneered. "Maybe we should have begged her not to."

City-girl flushed, but it was equal parts embarrassment and anger. "At least she doesn't rob them while she was at it, and then expect them to thank her for the privilege of being exploited!"

"No, she'll just leave their families to go hungry and forget them when – what was it you said – oh yes, forget about them when they're no longer convenient." His words struck her across the cheek, and he took a step forward. "And maybe the SDC wouldn't charge so much if they didn't have to pay for all the security it costs to get their goods here. Imagine how much they'd save if huntsmen fought White Fang bandits instead of faunus miners."

"The White Fang wouldn't have as much support as they do if the SDC didn't monopolise desperately needed goods! Huntresses and huntsmen shouldn't be used to fight _their_ race war!"

He agreed with that, actually. Luckily, he didn't need to respond.

"No," Conway called from behind her. "But maybe if they won't defend us against bandits and terrorists, they could come and help defend us from the Grimm. Maybe then the trade routes would be safe enough for other merchants to come out this far and compete with the SDC."

"A Huntress, out in the wild fighting Grimm on the frontier for heartless hicks like us?" Jaune asked in a tone of mocking amazement. "And miss the latest city fashions? Never!" He'd certainly never seen one out here for long- or one who was ever plainly dressed. Whoever invented combat skirts or garters clearly didn't have the wilderness in mind.

"Huntresses are heroes for everyone!" she exclaimed, passion apparent. "Human, faunus, we protect people no matter their race or status or-"

Jaune and Conway exchanged looks. They didn't say anything- they didn't need to- as the sound of Conway dropping the medical bags on the counter one by one filled the sudden silence.

"This is all I have on hand, Jaune," Conway said, utterly ignoring the reddening Huntress. "Dad might know where more is, but he's in an important meeting in the back and I daren't interrupt. Will this be enough?"

"Hope so," Jaune said. "I'll be coming back- think you could help me with some maps when I return?"

"If I can," Conway promised. "If I'm not being yelled out for how much it costs to bring paper and medical supplies out here, that is," he lamented.

That passive-aggressive salvo seemed to be the final straw. Or maybe the girl was angry or shamed or simply guilty enough to want to leave. Either way, she pushed forward and began gathering the bags with a single ribbon.

"I'll take them," city-girl snapped, taking all the bags at once. Despite her small frame, she handled them with an easy grace that made Conway look like a bumbler. In a moment, with a hostile final look exchanged with Jaune, she was out of the store like a cat burglar.

"Fucking faunus-rights activists," Conway muttered once she'd left, more thankful for her departure than her willingness to help. "Glad she's gone. They think they can come from their city, yell at us all they want, but and leave all moral and superior. They're so high and mighty, but they never stick around to actually change things." Conway spat to the side. "Not sure if that's better or worse," he admitted. "Who'd want them to stick around?"

People who'd enjoy lower prices from Huntresses protecting towns, for one, but who cared about them? "I came in when she was talking about store costs," Jaune said. "How much do you think she spends on her clothes alone?" Boots, garter, frills, bow…

Conway gave him an apprising look. "That outfit alone probably cost more than you used to bring in in in a month, maybe two, back before you freelanced for us," he admitted. "And that's not even touching her weapon as a Huntress."

"Please, don't," Jaune begged. "If I did, she might cut me with something worse than words." The two shared a look, and then a laugh. The fact that it wasn't unimaginable was what made it funny.

"Thanks for backing me up, Jaune," Conway thanked. "Even if Phil didn't ask for emergency supplies."

Jaune shrugged. He hadn't known. "People needed help," he explained. "But you know Phil." The man would rather limp home than ask for help he could live without, and expected the same of others.

"Sure do- and you," Conway claimed. "Now, speaking of freelancing… what can I help you with, Jaune?" he asked, getting down to business. "You don't normally come to town without a reason. You got more dust samples to turn in? I can give you a little extra if you do," he offered.

"Not this time, Con," Jaune began, ignoring the other youth's groan at the pet name, "I actually need some maps, a compass…" He sighed and slumped placed his elbows on the counter, one hand against his forehead. "And if you've got it, a whole load of patience."

"Patience, you…? Isn't this coming from the guy who once told me he had to sit in a tree for nine hours straight to scout out a dust lode and wait for Grimm to pass?"

"It was only nine hours," Jaune sighed. "I won't last nine minutes with this."

 _Breathe. Hold. Let it go…_

"Why?" Conway asked. "I thought it was odd you were here in Edge so soon. What's happened? You'd normally be out hunting right now."

"I'll be going out hunting later."

"So late!? You'll be stuck out there at night."

"I've got a feeling that won't matter."

Conway watched him carefully, and laid out some maps on the counter. "You wouldn't normally need these, either. What are you hunting for, anyway? The next big dust mine?"

"No. Something far more elusive…"

Jaune collected the various bits and pieces and stuffed them into his bags. When he looked back up, his eyes were deadly serious.

"A Bullhead was downed in the Wildlands and a huntsman's gone missing."

"In the Wildlands…?" Conway swallowed. "He's dead, then. No doubts about it. Gods protect his soul."

"I'm like as not to agree with you. Still, I need to go and try to find him, or at least what's left of him."

"Why? Why go to so much effort?"

Jaune paused by the door. His eyes slipped shut, even as his chest began to rise and fall a little faster. He took a deep breath, held it… and then let it go. When his eyes opened, they were calm and tranquil once more.

"Because _she_ asked me to."

* * *

 **Howdy. College Fool here, with a few (hopefully brief) points to start out the first chapter of a new story.**

 **First off, thanks to Coeur for (re)writing this, and agreeing to write this story in full. This chapter, and the first arc, is the only part of this story I actually did write out before abandoning the effort ye long time ago. Coeur's made it much better, and will do great things with the rest of the plan I'm sure. Thanks Coeur, and it's been a pleasure being your beta-reader. Now you get some of the fun, ha.**

 **Second, this story. It's going to focus on Ren and Jaune. That should be obvious by the character tags and summary alone. This is going to be a bit different from Coeur's usual works- an honest-to-god adventure story. This isn't a story built around romance, or comedy, or comedy-romance. These might have their places here and there, but expect more focus on the journey, and the characters, and the character journeys.**

 **There is a plan, but I'm not going to lie- this story will probably seem slow to people. It's not- or rather, the speed is deliberate, but there are meta-factors in play that will make it seem slower. While chapter length is varied, we're probably looking at sub-10k chapters- similar to White Sheep. But unlike WS, this will be every two weeks real-time, to allow more attention/refinement/thorough betaing. The plot won't be rushed to compensate. So, if it feels this story is half as fast as others... just remember it's being updated at half the rate. In this story we're valuing quality control over speed. I just ask for your patience, and understanding.**

 **Finally, this chapter, and the characters. Not your standard start, right? Familiar characters aren't quite getting off on the right foot. Rest assured, though, this isn't a bashing fic. It's a fic with flawed characters- who's viewpoints shade their perspectives- but there are reasons for these, and just about everything in this story. What those reasons are...**

 **Well, that's the fun part, right? Trying to figure out what you can before you're outright told. There's a lot of unknowns here yet to be filled in, and that's deliberate. So, you try to figure out what you can, and we'll dabble out small hints over time, and if we're doing our job right we'll STILL surprise you and upend what you thought you knew.**

 **Looking forward to you all joining us for this walkabout, hikers and campers and wilderness lovers especially.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C.F.**

 _ **Last note from Coeur: Just to answer the doubtless asked question, I am afraid I will not do this for anyone else or any other story. CF and I have a special relationship built on a lot of time working together. Please don't PM me to ask if I will write your story for you, and trust me when I say it won't make a difference how wonderful you think your story is. I mean no offence, but this is a special case. You may be sure you have a great story idea, but PM-ing and sharing it with me will not make me want to write it for you.**_

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 23rd September**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fuck me, this is a long chapter...**

 **A few more perspectives, a few more things seen. Please keep in mind that last chapter was entirely Jaune's PoV, so we didn't get to** _ **see**_ **the thoughts and feelings of the other characters. Yang, for example.**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

It turned out that Conway didn't have the most updated maps to hand, but he did have a way to get them. SDC stores always had printers for speciality products, usually fliers, coupons or wanted posters for the White Fang or those that dared steal from the mines. Making an updated map would just be a matter of selecting from a digital catalogue and printing it off.

Now if only he knew how to do that…

Conway had left to hold the floor again, which meant there was no help from that quarter. Jaune bit his lip and stared down at the overly large thing, wondering if it would be safe just to push buttons and hope for the best, or if he'd somehow break it. Technology really wasn't his thing.

His finger hesitated over a button, but he pulled it back with a sigh. They only had the one printer and it probably cost more than he could repay if he broke it. It really wasn't worth the risk. Stepping past it, he made his way in search of help, not from Conway this time – he still had to man the shop – but instead from Conway's old man, the manager of the store. Stood outside his office, Jaune nodded on the wood and waited.

"Conway, is that you again? I told you, I'm in the middle of an important meeting. Handle it yourself!"

"Mr. Mann?" Jaune called. "Con's at the register, but I was having trouble with the printer. It's for the expedition," he added, just to prevent him from being ignored. "I need maps for it – updated ones. Could you give me a hand?"

There was silence for a moment, and then footsteps echoed as someone approached the door. It opened, and Jaune looked up, expecting to see the tall and imposing figure of Mr Mann. Instead, there was nothing. He blinked and looked to the side, but it wasn't until an imperious huff sounded that his head tilted down.

It was a girl dressed in white, with hair the colour of snow and a ponytail just off-centre. Her icy eyes bore into his, and as his eyes trailed a little lower – to slender legs in a white skirt – and he couldn't help but admire them.

 _Sorry, Blondie,_ he thought, thinking back on that huntress. _Looks like you just got knocked down to number thirteen._

"It's alright, Mr Mann," the girl was saying in a frosty tone as she examined him back in turn. "I'm interested to know what was so important as to interrupt an important meeting," she said with an irate expression, stressing what Mr Mann had already said.

"Maps," Jaune answered, deciding not to be offended. The girl raised an eyebrow, and he realised he'd already told her about the maps. With a wince, he quickly added. "It's for the expedition with the Huntsmen. We need maps of the surrounding area, but I'm having trouble with the printer."

The word `Huntsmen` seemed to do the trick, and White relaxed. After a visible moment of thought, during which she looked him up and down, she nodded. "Very well, it wouldn't do for a guide to be unprepared, I suppose. Mr Mann, I believe we were finished- but I could use a copy of those maps as well."

"Right away, ma'am," Mr Mann replied, approaching from behind his desk.

White turned back to Jaune as he did so. "And who exactly are you supposed to be?" she asked.

Mr Mann gave Jaune a smile as he approached, which honestly put him on guard. Mr Mann was known for being impartial to the point of uncaring- always charging the Schnee bottom line, no exceptions. A company man at heart, and not the sort who smiled for unimportant company, and certainly not to calm down a mere hunter.

"Ma'am," Mr Mann explained before Jaune had a chance to, "this is Jaune Arc. He'll be one of your guides for the expedition into the Wildlands. He's a freelance independent contractor. He supports our local food procurement operations and terrain investigations," Mr Mann claimed. "He is also the individual who found Sample Seventeen."

Jaune was pretty sure that meant 'someone who does odd jobs, sells food, and looks at places we'd like looked at' in corporate language.

"Seventeen, hm?" White repeated, looking at him with an altogether different expression. "That was the sample that encouraged my father to increase investment and exploration in this region, was it not?"

"Indeed it was," Mr Mann replied, eager to explain. He even had a picture on hand, as proud as if he'd been the one to discover it. "Remarkable purity, especially for a surface deposit. Density unheard of in the kingdoms. We've yet to find another node matching that purity, but I'm sure our mine will find even higher grade dust any month now."

"I heard it came from the Grimmlands," White noted, looking at the picture of the hard, purple crystal that had earned him more in a month than he'd made in years. It had been a good find during a very bad time, but at least it worked out for Edge. Mostly.

"There's no way we can confirm that," Mr Mann hastily interjected. "There's no proof of that, and there were… complications when it came to its delivery."

Jaune frowned at that, just slightly.

"I heard about that too," White admitted, looking Jaune straight in the eye. Her eyes were blue, he noted, but a lighter shade than his own. These eyes looked at him as if evaluating, and with a certain sort of knowing - or presuming to know - that he didn't like.

"You have a sister in Vale, do you not?" she suddenly asked.

Jaune froze for a second before nodding stiffly. "I have several," he admitted.

"I thought so. I hope you are a more capable huntsman than them, at least," White said with a frankness bordering on the condescending.

"They had better things to do than stay outside all day," Jaune said. "I assume you're no different, Miss…?" he trailed off.

White looked at him without comprehension, and then looked at him as if he was an idiot.

"You're joking," she said flatly.

"Not at all. Going outside is important," Jaune said evenly, looking at the tan-less girl in front of him. It didn't look like she'd ever worked a hard day under the sun, but then again, that was obvious from the way she dressed. White… really? Well, it wasn't any of his business. "My Uncle always says that experience is the best teacher," he continued. "I get out a lot."

"No, I meant-" she began, but then stopped and gave him that look again. "You really don't know who I am, do you? Even though you're standing in my store."

Jaune blinked. "I thought this was Mr Mann's store," he said, nodding at the rapidly paling man.

White let out a laugh, and not a kind one. On looks alone, she ranked at number thirteen, but for that cruel sound, she quickly slipped lower – behind even Debbie. "Mr Mann manages this store on my family's behalf. He does not 'own' anything except responsibility befitting his role, and if he is telling anyone otherwise he is in violation of policy." She glanced at the older man, who rapidly paled and shook his head. "No, my family owns this store. My family is the reason this village is even on a map in the first place. Think `dust mine`. Do you understand now?" she asked.

Jaune didn't, and Mr Mann was all but despairing at the horrible introduction that shouldn't have had to be made. "Jaune," Mr Mann said, as embarrassed to be saying this as he was to be associated with the young hunter. "This is Weiss Schnee."

Jaune extended his hand for a shake, just as his parents had drilled into him. "Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you."

She stared at his hand, dirty and calloused as it was, like it was offensive.

"Of the Schnee family," Mr Mann added.

Weiss Schnee of the Schnee family visibly forced herself to shake his hand, and let go as soon as she possibly could.

"The same family which owns the Schnee Dust Corporation," the old man groaned, one hand over his face.

Realisation was quick to dawn, though given the situation, maybe not as quick as anyone in the room would have liked. He glanced down at the girl, who was at that very moment wiping her hand on her skirt. She looked disgusted.

"But… but I thought President Schnee was a man!" he exclaimed.

"I'm his daughter, you ignorant cretin!"

Oh… well that was new.

"Please forgive him, Miss Schnee. Jaune spends most of his time out of town," the Mann all but grovelled to the girl young enough to be his own daughter. Pitiful as it was, she acted like she expected it – and it was up to Mr Mann to lose almost all the respect Jaune had ever held for him to bring peace back.

"I can tell as much," Weiss huffed, slowly picking back the temper (and composure) she had let explode. "Let's just move on and get those maps," she suggested. "I'd rather not waste any more time here."

"Right away, Miss Schnee," Mr Mann said, just as eager to get this over with. That made three of them. They made their way to the printer, where the manager began poking at the boxes on the screen. Oh, it had been one of those `touch-screen` things he'd heard about. It probably was a good job he'd come for help, even if it meant running into such a snappy girl. Mr Mann looked up from the machine. "Do you know which maps you need?"

"Do you even know where we're going?" Weiss Schnee asked doubtfully.

"I know the area," Jaune answered, remembering the message he'd received before. He looked at the map of Remnant that hung on the wall. It was an artist's depiction of Remnant- but while there were crowns for Kingdoms, there were no names. It was all about knowing what continent you were on. But it wasn't hard- there, at the centre as always, was Vale.

He put a finger on it, and slowly drew it to the south west, towards the centre of the continent of Vytal. Across the Forever Falls along the coast and the plains of the interior, over the desert where no rain clouds crossed the barrier mountains further west, and then the Forever Forests that continued seemingly forever until you reached the Vacuo Dead Lands far to the west…

He stopped his finger a bit past the Barrier Mountains, where the map shaded 'the Frontier' from the truly uncharted Grimmlands.

"Can you give me everything you have of Eastern Vytal?" he asked. "Also, the latest of what we have north of the Grimmlands." There was no point in asking for maps of the actual Grimmlands - no one had survived to map them all in centuries, and the over-head aerial shots from airships outrunning Nevermore never changed. Occasionally the random nomadic tribe managed the trip, but they never had the tools to make a proper mapping expedition of it.

"Certainly," Mr Mann answered and tapped several boxes. "But why do you want all of that?"

Jaune shrugged. "I've been wanting to head west for a while," he admitted. "Heard the hunting is better out there. Once this expedition is over, thought I'd catch a ride to Vale and see for myself."

Weiss scoffed. "There's nothing on Vytal west of Vale worth mentioning except for Vacuo," she opined.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

Jaune said nothing. He hadn't asked for her opinion, after all.

"It might come in handy if a Bullhead has to set down," he added.

"I can do that," Mr Mann said, and even Miss Schnee seemed to like the contingency angle. "How would you like the maps - on paper or scroll?" he asked.

"Paper," Jaune said.

"Scroll," Weiss said at the same time.

They looked at each other, and not kindly.

"A digital copy on scroll would be superior," Weiss Schnee said. "You can read it at any time of day without having to squint in the dark."

"A paper map doesn't have a light-up screen that can be seen by Grimm from afar," Jaune returned. "You can use the light of the moon and stars if you need to read it."

"Unless it's overcast. Besides, maps rip and tear."

"A map doesn't break or run out of power."

"A scroll doesn't get soggy if rained upon."

"A scroll doesn't work at all if dropped in water."

"That's why you have a scroll carrying case."

"Or you could just bring a map bag."

"And put it where? I'm wearing a highly engineered combat mini-skirt, if you haven't noticed."

"I wear something called 'pants' that have these amazing inventions called 'pockets.' Plus, I have a ruck sack for carrying stuff as well."

Weiss glared at the offense to her fashion. Jaune looked back at the lack of practicality.

"Um… if I may?" Mr Mann tentatively butted in.

"What?!" both boy and girl demanded.

"Why not take both?" he offered. He had his hands held up before him, as though he wasn't quite sure which of them would attack first.

Jaune and Weiss shared a quick, embarrassed look.

Weiss broke the staring contest first and turned away, coughing into her fist. "Yes, that would be the most reasonable compromise," she agreed. "That will work, Mr Mann. Good job."

Jaune released a breath. "It would… if I had a scroll," he pointed out.

Mr. Mann's eyes widened as he remembered that fact. Ms. Schnee's eyes widened in surprise that it could be a fact at all. Jaune's eyes didn't widen at all- but then, the most advanced technology back at the cabin was a phone so old you had to spin the ring to dial.

It's not like there was much reception beyond the frontier anyway.

"I'll… just start printing and go get more paper for those maps, then," Mr Mann excused himself after starting the first of the maps. "And map bags."

That left just him and the heiress, and the silence between them.

"You really are a backwoods dunce, aren't you?" she asked, possibly more pity than contempt. "Do you even know how to read? A map, I mean?"

Jaune tensed. Why, oh why, couldn't she have just left the silence? "Of course I do."

"Point out Atlas on that map," she challenged, referring to the world map from before.

Jaune glanced at the map, which had crowns for the Kingdoms but no names. He tried to search his memories for the last time he'd ever needed to know where the four kingdoms were… and couldn't, not before Weiss Schnee casually strode past him.

"Atlas," she casually lectured, "the northernmost kingdom." She pointed to the continent east of Vytal. "Mistral, home of Sanctum. Don't they teach you provincials anything in school out here?" she asked, but didn't give him a chance to respond, which was probably for the best. "We are on the continent of Vytal-"

"I know what continent we're on," Jaune snapped. "I've never had to travel to Atlas, so I have no idea where it is. The Schnee family _live_ there, so of course you would know. You're asking geography, not cartography."

"I'm surprised you know the difference… if you actually do," Weiss Schnee doubted. "If you're supposed to be our guide into the Grimmlands, I'll need a bit more than that if I'm supposed to have faith in you. We're on a dangerous mission, not some casual stroll. This is too serious to leave to amateurs," she reasoned.

"You don't think I know what I'm doing," Jaune realized.

"I believe you are a backwoods hunter who knows how to shoot mindless and relatively harmless animals," Weiss admitted. "This may be a useful skill - indeed a necessary one out here where farmland is so scarce - but this does not qualify you to take part on an expedition in which lives are at stake. Trained professionals - not amateur outdoorsmen - are the best chance for success this mission has. It's for the best for everyone's safety," she concluded.

There was a half of a heartbeat of a pause as she turned away.

"Even yours…"

"You're just going to go into the Wildlands without a guide because you don't trust my skills?" he asked, incredulous. "Are you suicidal?"

"Of course not," she denied, offended herself. "That's why I'm asking my father to send professional huntsmen, people with years of training, to help us. Unlike you, they have credentials and experience that can be relied upon."

Jaune's fingernails curled so hard they would leave marks.

"That's it?" Jaune asked, incredulous. "You have someone stuck in the Wildlands, and you're going to delay and leave them out there as Grimm bait just because you don't have someone with a fancy school diploma? Because I couldn't point at a foreign country on a map? You're not suicidal - you're downright murderous!"

"Do you even know what a map is?" Weiss Schnee asked, ignoring the accusation.

Jaune didn't understand the question, which may have been her point, because she sighed and deigned to explain with her eyes closed. "A map," she began, "is defined as a picture-"

"Graphic representation," Jaune corrected.

Weiss paused, barely opening an eye but giving him a measuring gaze. Jaune continued.

"A map," he began from the start, "is a graphic representation, of a portion of Remnant's surface, drawn to scale, as seen from above. That's the definition. It can be a photograph, or hand-drawn. Or made with sticks and stones and broken bones. But as long as it's drawn to scale, as seen from above, it's a map."

Weiss considered him. "Did you learn that? Or did you just parrot what someone else told you?"

"What's the difference?" Jaune asked, not caring for her answer as he took one of the maps off the printer, the map of their target location.

"I can read maps," Jaune said. "I can draw maps. I know every colour, every symbol, and what they mean. I know the Three Norths, and how to find north even without a compass. Do you? Could you?" he returned. "If I asked you to convert the GM angle, would you know what I was talking about? Could you resection off of nothing but a mountain range?" He looked for a suitable spot, and pointed to a ridgeline. "Could you look at a map and tell me the line of sight from here? Or anywhere? Can you read the curves and see the dead space that's best to hide from Grimm in a valley below?"

"So you do know something," she admitted grudgingly. She looked at the map as well, even as he turned towards her.

"I'll know more than any 'trained expert' you bring in," he said. "You want someone who's been taught for years how to survive in the wilds? I've lived on the frontier since I was eight. You want some who can read a map of the Wildlands? Chances are I've walked them - and if they have a new map, then I'm probably the one who made it. No one's spent more time hunting or ranging west of the Barrier Mountains than me. It's not just a map to me - I've walked it, and nearly every village out here too."

Weiss seriously considered him - or considered him seriously, at least. "Perhaps you might be good for something after all," she conceded, looking for and taking another of the maps. "There's a village we were looking at using as a rally point for the expedition, but haven't been able to raise on the radio. What do you know about the village of Lake Tear?"

Jaune's eyes widened.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

"I know it doesn't exist," Jaune answered.

Weiss frowned. "It's right here," she said, pointing at the map. And there it was - a little dot in the wilderness beside a lake shaped like a tear.

"Ma'am?" a faint voice said.

"It used to be there," Jaune corrected. "It's gone now. No one lives there."

"Don't be ridiculous," Weiss denied. "Schnee Corp didn't close any mines in the area back then, and I would have heard if someone else's dust mine collapsed."

"Then you didn't hear right," Jaune said. "Grimm overran it five, six years ago."

Weiss didn't believe him. "Don't lie just because you don't know," she said. "No one comes out this far west without a reason, and dust is the only reason that matters. Dust would have seen it restored. I thought I was supposed to take you seriously."

"Ma'am!" the voice was ignored.

"Don't take my word at all, Snow Angel, but you'll still find a graveyard," Jaune bit out. "That town fell. No one cared. No one cared so much that you people forgot to take it off the map. That place belongs to the Grimm now."

"That's impossible," Weiss rejected, temper rising at the asinine nickname. "The SDC keep the most updated frontier maps around. Dust mines are too important not to. And even if a village were being attacked, Huntsmen would have been sent to help evacuate the residents-"

"Miss Schnee!" Mr Mann practically shouted, finally being acknowledged. "Miss Schnee," he repeated once he had her attention, speaking as awkwardly to her as he had to Jaune when introducing her. "The map is wrong. Lake Tear wasn't a dust mine. And-"

He looked at Jaune, who was once again clenching his fists but gave the store owner a short nod.

"Mr Arc was there when it fell."

/-/

Jaune left the Schnee Company Store with a full bag and a sour mood. True, he hadn't had to pay for the maps or other expedition supplies - but he'd almost rather have, if only so he hadn't to take the Schnee's pity along with her money. That had been… unpleasant. How she had danced around what she wanted to say, while refusing to say it aloud, as if expecting him to divine her meaning so she wouldn't have to express it.

She could have just said she was sorry if that was what she meant. "I'm sorry I called you a liar about living through a `Grimm Night`."

She didn't know, he reminded himself. It was fine. It had been five years ago. He'd moved on, and she didn't need to act like he was an eggshell about to crack. They could dislike each other for entirely different reasons. She certainly hadn't held her tongue when deeming him an ignorant hillbilly, or suggesting leaving someone trapped in the Wildlands.

If he'd been the sort to put pride before money - well, more of the sort of person to put pride before money - he'd have refused the offer just to spite her attempt to ease her conscience. As it was, he got his maps, and some better supplies to put in his pack. Every cloud had a silver lining and all that.

He was still in a bad mood, though, even as he made his way towards the expedition's meeting site.

He'd worked with people he disliked before – who hadn't? In a place like Edge, you couldn't afford to be picky, and you had to be ready to forgive people for slights others might drag on for months. It was just a part of life, and as arrogant as the Schnee girl was, she probably hadn't _meant_ all of it. At the very least, their meeting had been frustrating and a little insulting – but nowhere near as antagonistic as the first two Huntresses he'd met today. Maybe that was a sign the day was getting better, but it didn't exactly do much for his mood, and it showed in his expression. Narrowed eyes, his mouth a thin line and his brow smooth, but intentionally so, like he was forcing calm upon himself.

 _Breathe, hold, let go…_

As he walked past the Inn, he tried to distract himself by raising his nose into the air and taking a quick sniff. The air was fresh, unusually so. With the mines nearby, not to mention the inn, and the general populace of Edge – the dogs especially - the air shouldn't really have been so cool and clean. The breeze must have blown it away, and that much of a breeze made him think of rain. He was so lost in it that he failed to notice the disturbance behind and above him, as someone shouted something about red, and then hoods.

He didn't miss the fluttering of a red cloak as it drifted down to the ground beside him. Instead he froze, staring at it, stupefied.

It couldn't be…

Picking the red cloak up, he looked up from where it had fallen from. He could see a clothes line, still wobbling slightly, but no person. Folding the red cloak in his arms, Jaune turned the corner with the intent of taking it to the laundry pool by the back entrance. Return it to the washer at the inn, who'd return it to a guest, and it'd all be set right. Just a good deed by a stranger, help that was free to give, the appropriate sort of behaviour from a-

"Cloak thief! Stop!"

That was about all the warning he had before something caught up and crashed into him from behind. The impact was a total surprise, and the new weight on his pack wasn't welcome. Jaune staggered, felt small hands paw at his head for balance, but didn't panic until he felt tiny fingers claw at the bandana on his arm.

"Get off!" he yelled, trying to throw whoever was on his back off as violently as possible. It didn't work well. He threw his bag off his shoulders more than the attacker off his back. The limpet curled in mid-air and landed on her feet and soon he was looking down silver eyes and the muzzle of a… scythe?

"That's my cloak! Give it back to me!" the tiny black-haired girl demanded, eyes wide, pointing at his arm.

Jaune, heart racing, looked down and gave a disgusted noise. "This is yours," he said, throwing the folded cloak in his hands at the girl. It hit her in the face, forcing her to drop her scythe to take it out of her eyes. "This," Jaune continued, pointing at his makeshift bandana, "-is mine."

The girl ignored him, possibly didn't even hear him, and instead gripped the red cloak tightly with shaking hands and looking at it for a few seconds. After a breath of her own she put it on, and the tense silence gave way to an awkward one that only got worse as she placed the cloak around herself and lowered the hood.

Jaune's initial anger gave way to awkwardness as the girl clutched her cloak unnaturally tight. She was clearly attached to the thing. It was probably as important to her as the bandana was to him, which might have explained her immediate anger, and the equally sudden descent into embarrassed horror once she realised he wasn't stealing it.

Fair's fair, he reminded himself. He'd only gotten upset when she'd reached for his bandana. He shouldn't be too quick to judge, even if he'd never levelled a gun at someone before. She was from the city, as her bright and colourful clothes showed. They did things differently there.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

"I was trying to return it," he began, at the same moment she said, "I'm sorry."

Their words seemed to cancel each other out. Red took the chance to say it again first.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, hugging the cloak tighter against herself, and Jaune had the sense she had the hood down because she was too ashamed to look him in the eye. "I saw the red on your shoulder, and I thought-" her hood lowered again, but he could see her putting her fingers together awkwardly like Julia used to. "I'm sorry. This cloak is… from someone very important to me," she admitted.

Jaune looked at the red cloak, something clearly well-worn and ragged with time and love and constant repairs. He looked at his make-shift bandana, which was very much the same.

"It's fine," he admitted. His anger dissipated, even if the annoyance lingered faintly. "Just… take care of it in the brush, alright? Wouldn't want to lose it out there."

Red kept looking down, still silent, and once again Jaune was reminded of how his sisters used to do the same thing. Eyes down when she was defeated, or embarrassed, or ashamed…

Jaune sighed. "You're a Huntress, aren't you?" he asked. "Part of one of the rescue teams?" It wasn't hard to figure out. New arrival, unfamiliar face, and an ostentatious weapon no one in Edge could have afforded, let alone hoped to wield.

Red looked up, and he could practically see the pride returning to her face as she nodded. "I'm Ruby!" she greeted. "And I'm technically not a Huntress, just one in training."

"Then there's hope for you yet," Jaune returned. With a sigh, he realised he ought to make a good impression – the irony not being lost on him – and extended a hand. "I'm Jaune. I'm one of the hunters who will be your guides."

If he could see the pride on her face before, he could practically see stars in her eyes now.

What had he done now?

/-/

Jaune didn't realize he'd been inviting company on his way to the rendezvous point, but that's what Ruby had taken it as. Oh, she claimed she needed to be early to think on things, but her version of 'think of what you need' seemed to be 'yammer on about weapons`.

He'd tried to ignore the Huntress-in-training as politely as possible, merely nodding and humming along when he was expected to, and answering the idle question whenever she thought to ask one. It wasn't the worst encounter he'd had today, not by a long shot, but it still wasn't what he'd hoped for. He'd tried to give her the slip too, but the winding dirt roads hadn't lost her, nor had she been distracted by a small group of puppies playing with their mother and some kids in a small patch of grass Edge called a play park.

She was determined, that was for sure. He just wished she didn't have so many questions.

Wasn't her ballistic scythe the coolest thing ever? Yeah, sure. It was also a sniper rifle, which meant he'd been staring down the barrel of a fifty-calibre barrel that could have turned his head to mush, and wasn't that impressive? Oh sure, absolutely fascinating. And she was sorry if she was babbling a bit, she was just a bit of a geek when it came to weapons. He never would have guessed. But they were just so cool, you know, like extensions of the soul and said a lot about people who used them. You don't say. Was she rambling? Yes. She was rambling, wasn't she? Still, yes. Sorry, all the hunters she'd met were so much older, when was the first time he'd gone into the Grimmlands? When he was ten or so - Wow. Could she look at his weapon?

Jaune stumbled back to paying attention at that point.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, not quite sure he'd heard her right.

"Can I look at your weapon?" Ruby repeated. Her eyes were earnest, her face set in a wide, excited smile.

"Why…?" Jaune asked, honestly confused.

"Well, this is my first time to the Grimmlands this far away from Vale, and I'm sixteen, and my Crescent Rose is the best weapon ever. But you've been hunting in the Grimmlands since you were ten? That's so cool! You must have a badass weapon to survive!"

"It… really isn't," Jaune tried to say. "I just went with my Uncle and helped him carry the game he caught and the plants we found. He's the one who taught me everything I know about the Wildlands. I didn't even fire a bow until I was twelve or so."

Not at actual prey, anyway. He'd practised since he was younger but he doubted she'd care much about that.

"Is that your weapon?" Ruby asked, pointing at the short bow that was hooked over his shoulder. It was a stupid question, so it didn't get a stupid answer and she flushed a bit instead. "What does it do?" she asked instead.

"It's a bow," Jaune answered slowly, as if speaking to a small child (which, in a sense, he was). "It shoots arrows."

Ruby pouted. "You know what I mean," she said, though he really didn't. "What sort of special functions does it have?"

Jaune took the weapon off and let it unfold. In a simple motion, what had looked like a very short bow unfolded along its lengths to become… a significantly larger longbow. Woo hoo… Okay, so the longbow was a lot harder to pull, for a lot more power than the short bow form, and it was quite clever to have the option for both. But still – it was nothing compared to a scythe that was also a sniper rifle.

"It can fold for easier carrying," Jaune said, twisting the exceptionally plain metal bow so that Ruby could see. "And it can shoot whatever type of arrows I draw."

"So, you could use dust arrows that go 'boom' or grappling hooks or fire taser darts?" Ruby asked, excited.

"If I could afford any of those, sure," Jaune said. "I occasionally find raw dust in the wild, but I tend to stick to the normal sort that go 'thunk' and kill animals by impact." Some hunters liked to bleed their prey, but that felt wasteful and cruel, and no amount of comments on how the meat tasted better that way would change his mind.

"That's…" Ruby trailed off, probably torn between 'boring' and 'primitive`. It probably said a lot about her that she didn't mention either. "How do you hit people with it?" she asked instead.

He didn't – at least, he never had and never would hunt a person, but he supposed she meant in self-defence, and if something went wrong. Indulgently, he twisted his wrist just so, letting the bow bump against her noggin. "Like so," he said with a slight smirk, even as Ruby rubbed her head and pouted.

Somehow, despite having just been hit over the head with it, she didn't look like she believed him.

"That's it?" she asked. "It doesn't break in half into dual-blades? Or straighten into a bo-staff? Or even nun-chucks?" she asked.

Well… Jaune twisted the centre heft, and it disconnected into two. The metal arms not only folded on themselves but drew in the bowstring from both end. In a matter of moments, the bow collapsed to two short metal polls connected by twine.

"Cool! It really is nun-chucks!" she exclaimed. "Can I try them?" she asked.

"No," Jaune responded, though not harshly. "It's still just a bowstring. If you actually hit something with it, it will break." And while he had more string just in case, he didn't feel like losing one for a demonstration.

"Well, that's boring," Red said. "Why let it break apart like that if you can't hit anything with it? Unless…" she began as a light bulb went off. "Unless… it's actually gun-chucks! That can shoot so they don't have to hit! That would be so awesome!" she cheered.

"What? No, it's just a bow!" Jaune said, incredulous. "It's a bow that collapses and breaks apart to be easier to carry! Why would anyone make a bow out of guns? That'd be like using swords for arrows." Ruby raised a finger and opened her mouth, "-which would also be really stupid," Jaune added. Ruby lowered her finger.

"What happens if a Grimm gets close?" she asked instead.

"Then I either run away or I die," Jaune said simply. Or he could hide, shake it off or a number of other things, but if she was expecting him to say he killed a Grimm with two metal bars, she was up for disappointment. "If you get caught in a battle of attrition with Grimm in the Wildlands, you're dead no matter what weapon you have. There's too many of them, and fighting some just alerts the rest. It's the Wildlands for a reason. My having a fancy weapon wouldn't change that."

Ruby looked confused, or maybe disappointed, even as she looked at his bow.

"Look," Jaune tried to explain, not sure why he was bothering, but somehow feeling like he'd kicked a puppy. "It's just an old family bow, handed down on my Mom's side. I've seen it almost all my life, and all I've seen it do is collapse and fold down to be easier to carry," he demonstrated, allowing the bow to fold down.

It could be a long bow, or a short bow, or fold into two parallel metal sticks linked by the bow string in a fraction of the space. Still weighed the same, but it was convenient, and out in the wild, that was all that mattered.

"It's nothing special," he went on. "You wouldn't even take it to war anymore, not since the invention of dust ammo. All it's good for is hunting. The only advantage is that it's quieter than a gun and I don't need dust." Both of which were useful in the Wildlands, but not the kind of combat she was talking about. "It's nothing special."

"Sounds like a family heirloom to me," Ruby disagreed. "Is there a name or a story behind it?" she asked.

There was, but he wasn't going to share it with someone he'd just met. Ruby was nice enough, but still a stranger – and while he appreciated the fact she understood the importance behind such heirlooms, it was a private affair. He let the silence turn awkward, and this time it was Ruby who tried to move it along.

"Well," she tried again, "you might claim that bow is nothing special, but what about that quiver?"

Jaune's hand instinctively went behind him, checking that it was secured. It looked like an exceptionally wide quiver, a bit blocky but still thick, but… "That's newer," he admitted. "It's-"

"A Type three portable ammunition fabricator, isn't it?" Ruby asked. "Powered by a Dust Battery, it can take raw materials and produce ammunition over a period of hours or days. It's usually used for low-quality dust bullets, but you use yours for arrows, don't you? Using whatever sticks and stones you find. That way your arrows aren't limited to what you carry out with you. You can make more out in the Grimmlands, can't you? I bet that a battery can last for months at a time, can't it?"

Jaune looked at her.

Ruby went just a little red from her recitation. "Sorry. Weapon geek."

Jaune couldn't help the soft smile that came across his face. "It was a gift from my family when I became a teenager and started hunting full-time," he shared. "Everyone chipped in. And yeah, you're right. You sure know your gear."

"Must have been a lot of family," Ruby said, smiling at the subtle praise. "Those things aren't cheap."

"Yeah, they're not," Jaune admitted with a soft smile. It cost almost as much as everything he'd ever made as a hunter over the last half-decade. All his family had chipped in, his parents, his uncle, and every sister - even the ones working in the cities.

"That's cool," Ruby said, nodding to herself. "It's like updating a classic without getting rid of what makes it a classic." She paused. "So, can I get your autograph?"

"I'm sorry?" Jaune asked Ruby.

"Can I have your autograph?" Ruby repeated, just as earnest as the first time.

"Why…?" Jaune asked, honestly confused, and trying to remember what might have been said to warrant one.

"Because you're like the youngest Hunter I've ever met!" Ruby cheered. "Like, most of my classmates haven't been to the Grimmlands, just the forests outside Vale. Heck, I won't graduate Beacon until I'm like, twenty. And you've been hunting in the Grimmlands since you were ten? With a classic weapon? That's so cool! It must have been so exciting!"

"It really wasn't," Jaune tried to demure, remembering the (absence) of epic battles against the enemies of mankind, and far more the fleeing and the hiding from the monsters of Grimm. He'd killed some, sure, but had never gone out of his way to do so.

"Please?" Ruby remembered to ask.

"No."

"Aw, why not?" Ruby whined, doing her best to look adorable. Unfortunately for her, Jaune had seven sisters.

"I don't have a pen," Jaune claimed.

Ruby offered one.

"I don't have anything to write on," Jaune tried again.

Ruby just… did she just offer a ragged corner of her own cloak?

"And I'm a hunter, not a Huntsman," he pointed out, putting emphasis on the capital H and the lack thereof.

Ruby didn't get it. "…what's the difference?" she asked.

"I hunt for a living. I kill animals, skin them, and then sell their meat and skins. I also gather herbs on the side. That sort of thing."

"That's it?" Ruby asked, sounding sceptical.

"Occasionally I carry things between villages, or check out something in the wilderness that someone wants checked," Jaune admitted, "but anything I eat is probably something I killed myself. I don't have a fancy weapon or superpowers or play hero."

"But you've fought Grimm, haven't you?" Ruby asked.

"When I didn't have any other choice," Jaune admitted. "But it's only been in self-defence."

Survival was survival.

"And you help people for a living."

"If it didn't help someone, they probably wouldn't pay me." It was a mutually selfish arrangement, and he was little more than a gopher. Go for this, go for that, find me more meat or medicinal herbs or tell me what's out there…

"But if someone really needed help, you'd stay and help them even if they couldn't pay, right?" Ruby tried again.

It was beginning to get frustrating trying to get through to her. "Yes," Jaune said. "Because that's the right thing to do."

"Even against Grimm?" she asked.

"I'd never abandon someone to the Grimm," Jaune swore. "No matter how much their own fault it may be that they're out there. But that's not because I'm hero." he added. "It's because I'm not a heartless jerk. Got it?"

"Nope," Ruby said easily. Because he wasn't looking at her as they walked, he wasn't sure if she had a cheeky smile or a confused expression on her face. "You hunt," Ruby began to list. "You help people. You try to do the right thing. You'd defend people from the Grimm. You even have a weapon."

He could practically hear her smile.

"You sound like a true Huntsman to me," she admitted shyly.

 _"I think you could be,"_ someone else – two someone's – had once whispered.

Jaune stopped and pivoted so fast she actually did run into him and bounced off. His heart hammered in his chest, and something pounded inside his skull.

 _Breathe, hold… no…_

"Don't call me that," he whispered. "Don't ever call me that."

Ruby was surprised. "Wha- what's wrong with Huntsmen?" she asked, a little taken aback by his vehemence.

Jaune looked at her. Looked her in the eye, and saw her and her kind. The blonde, the city-girl and the elitist heiress… three encounters, each one of them trying his patience in new and heart-pounding ways. And that was just this morning, even before he'd stared down the barrel of a gun. This could still be a good day. Compared to a typical day when Huntsmen were involved…

"Everything," he spat.

"That's not true!" Ruby rejected instantly, looking affronted. "Huntsmen are Heroes! They save people. Being a Huntsman or a Huntress, that's the best thing you can be," she claimed. She gave her own glare, as full as conviction as she could make it. "I've wanted and worked all my life to be a real Huntress. There's nothing wrong with that," she said, her own grey eyes flashing with resolve and cape fluttering dramatically in the breeze.

Jaune laughed in her face. "A real Huntress? I've met real Huntresses - and you, little girl, aren't one."

Ruby flushed under the scorn and slight against her size, but kept her resolve. "Not yet," she admitted, "but I will be. I'm still just in training, but I'm a student at the best school for Huntsmen there is, Beacon Academy."

If Jaune had laughed before, a look of hate passed his face now.

"Beacon," he all but snarled, "is nothing but a pit of vipers. A place for liars and hypocrites," he accused.

"That's not true!" Ruby shouted back, angry at the accusation towards her friends as much as the insult to her ideals. "My friends go to Beacon! Good people go there to learn how to be better Huntsmen! We're going to fight for all of Remnant!"

Jaune laughed again, bitter as it was. "Are you? When was the last time Beacon sent students to the frontier, and not just the inner territories? What do you even know about the world outside your city walls? Do you know how many settlements were started last year? Can you name even one that failed?"

She didn't answer, and that was all the answer he needed. He let out a single, bitter, laugh.

"I didn't think so. Real Huntsmen don't worry about things like that, not when there's always something more important in the city. You and your kingdoms would rather forget we existed. Beacon's no different. The only person you're here to save is one of your own."

"At least we want to save people!" Ruby finally retorted, anger edging out tears in her eyes. "At least we want to learn how! But you? You're just a jerk! Who have you ever saved?"

Even if she was lashing out in the dark, it clearly struck close to home. Jaune clenched his teeth, and his hands curled instinctively.

"You haven't saved anyone, have you?" the girl half-guessed, half-accused. "You were probably the one who had to be saved - hiding up in a tree or something! That's it, isn't it?" Jaune hissed again, and Ruby knew she was close to the mark.

"Maybe we could do better, but at least we're trying! And we do care about what's right! Risking yourself to help others is something only good people do. Huntsmen are supposed to be that force for good. Being a Huntress is an honour!"

Jaune steadied, took a deep breath, and for a second Ruby felt she'd won the argument. That the self-evident truth was so self-evident that even a meanie like him could see it.

"Huntresses are supposed to be a force for good." Jaune conceded, and Ruby's spirits rose. "Being a good Huntress isn't just an honour, it brings honour to the name. True Huntresses really do protect anyone."

But then his eyes opened, and there was not soft compassion.

"But in all my years, I've only met one Huntress who deserved that title." His eyes narrowed. "And you, Ruby… You aren't her. You aren't even half of what she was."

"I will be," Ruby vowed defiantly. "Me? My Team? My friends? We all will. We'll earn it. We'll save the day and guard the Kingdoms. We'll push back evil-doers and protect the innocent. We'll fight for what's best, and we'll win."

Jaune's eyes narrowed further. "If that's what you think being a Huntress is about, you're just as bad as the rest," he accused. "A real Huntress might think that, but a true Huntress? One who deserved the name?" He leaned forward, and despite herself Ruby flinched back under his glare. "True heroes save lives and guard the weak. They'd push back the Grimm and protect anyone. They'd fight for what's right, even if they'd lose. But you…?"

Jaune shook his head, and he didn't look angry anymore- he looked disappointed, unsurprised even. That was worse somehow.

"You attacked me from behind and held a civilian at gunpoint over some damn laundry. Honour? You? No… you're not a true Huntress. You're not even close."

He spat to the side, and shoved past her with a final mutter.

"None of you are."

/-/

By the time he reached the meeting area, the anger he'd felt had subsided, leaving him with nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth. Compared to the other meetings with her kind, Ruby had been almost pleasant at first. Or well, not pleasant, but ignorant enough to be innocent of any real wrong. Sure, she'd pointed a gun at him, but she hadn't shown the same carelessness as Blonde and City-Girl, and she'd been apologetic. More so than White, at least, and not ashamed to admit it.

But then she had to say all _that_ -

Jaune let out a sharp breath through his nose, limiting himself to a glare at nothing in particular. This was why he preferred to go out alone- or at least stay far away from any Hunters when he went into the Wilds. He'd be in bad shape if he went out like this. He wasn't sure why it was so bad, why he'd snapped worse than usual. Or rather, he was, but it took a little while to accept it.

 _I let her get to me,_ he admitted to himself with a more composed breath. _Her and her silver eyes and even more silver tongue._ He sighed, and a hand came up to pinch his brow as he tried to dispel the lingering distate laced with disappointment. Bad enough that the other three had pissed him off in their own way- she just had bad timing to come after them. But even if she'd been first, he couldn't be sure it'd have gone any better.

 _You should have known better. You did know better. You should have left her behind when you had the chance, rather than see if she'd be any different from the rest._ What a fine time for his anger to peak, and at the only one who hadn't actually meant offense. Not at first, anyway. And the smallest, too.

That probably made him the villain in their little drama, didn't it?

Jaune sighed and pushed himself onwards. To be fair to himself, the entire day had been a trial so far, and maybe they were all a bit tense with their own friend lost in the wilds. That didn't really excuse his or their behaviour, or his reaction, but it explained it. He didn't regret it, per se - and again his hand wanted to clench at the memories of the day so far - but he wasn't proud of it either.

His mother would have wanted him to go back and apologize, but she wasn't here anymore. Besides, what would he even say?

"I should have just avoided them all," he mused out loud. "The first two probably hate me, the Schnee is sceptical and I bit the last girl's head off. And to think, it's not even noon…"

Truly, a fantastic start to the day.

Even though he showed up to the meeting area without Ruby, he wasn't the first one to arrive. Early though he was, someone else was already waiting. Luckily, it wasn't one of the Huntresses he'd met earlier and instead someone that cheered him up immediately.

"Kalie!" Jaune recognized, an honest smile coming to the face. He jogged up to meet her.

She reciprocated, smiling just as much or even more than him. "Jaune!" she returned, rising from a seat. "It's been too long! I haven't seen you since..." she trailed off, trying to remember.

"The New Year… or maybe even the harvest festival," Jaune guessed with a laugh. "You're looking as good as ever," he said, and she did. She was a modest brunette, brown to his blonde, but she wore a similar sort of hunting garb. Not only did she have a quiver and bow as well, she even had a bandana like his- though she wore her green one to keep her hair down, unlike his red arm-band. It wasn't showy, but he'd always found it charming. Classy, even, in a rural sort of way. She never tried to be pretty, but she was.

Kalie smiled a bit more. "Thanks. You too," she returned, and though Jaune smiled too he didn't have even the hint of a blush on his cheeks. "I'm surprised you're actually here. I wasn't sure they'd get a response. We haven't seen each other since-" she stopped, realizing where she'd been going. "Sorry…"

"It's cool," Jaune waved off, not offended or annoyed. "I'm actually here because of her. She called, at least, and left a message asking for help. And well, here I am."

"That's good," Kalie said. "Wish you'd been so punctual in answering my calls. You've been out so much, we never seem to see each other when I'm back in town."

Jaune shrugged, and gave an apologetic smile. "Been out in the frontier, probing the Grimmlands," he explained. "Best views, rarest herbs, and the SDC likes to know where the dust deposits are. What can I say?" he asked.

"You could have said 'yes' when I wanted to go along," Kalie muttered, the first (but brief) drop of her smile as she looked away.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

His smile was a bit sad, not upset. "It wouldn't have worked out, Kalie," he claimed. "The Grimmlands… they're not like the Wildlands. It would have been too much of a risk."

"It didn't have to be the Grimmlands," she replied, but there was no heat to it.

Their last argument was an old argument. It was something he felt he had to do. It was the only remarkable thing he could do, as well or better than anyone else. Going into the Grimmlands, doing what so few others could or would… it was good work. Not the most profitable, but good. But it was also dangerous for those who weren't fit for it.

Kalie was an admirable hunter, could shoot a lark in mid-air at a hundred yards, could read a map like no one's business and knew all the flowers and fauna out there, but she lacked something necessary to survive out there.

Or rather, didn't lack something. Fear. And in the Grimmlands, fear was death.

"Don't be like that," Jaune urged. "You know you're in my top ten, right?"

She laughed, and it was because she could laugh that they were amicable exes and not just exes. "Jaune, no girl likes being told she's in a guy's top ten." she scolded. "That's just telling them they're not in the top five, or top three. You might get away with claiming Momma as number one, but after that…"

"It's not my fault I have so many sisters." Jaune protested.

"But it totally is your fault you put them first. Seriously, Jaune, `you are a ten` is flattering on a scale of one to ten. Not so much when you're in tenth place."

Despite the scolding, they were both smiling. Or at least she was. Jaune looked a bit sheepish. "Wish you'd told me that before today. Still, better than telling a girl she didn't make the top ten, right?" he asked.

Kalie's jaw dropped. "You didn't," she denied, even as she knew he must have. "No way! Was it-" it occurred to her, but she couldn't believe it. "Please tell me it wasn't a _Huntress_."

Jaune smiled back, laughter in his eyes. "She wanted me to buy her drinks after crashing Phil's bar, and wouldn't take no for an answer. But hey, look at the bright side - you can be flattered you beat her," he offered.

Kalie laughed. "It's probably better for my health if I don't rub it in… and better for you if we keep you two apart. Guess that makes the team selection easy, then."

Jaune wasn't so sure. "She, er, might not have been the only Huntress I ticked off today." And to think, it wasn't even noon.

Kalie gave him a look. "There's a story behind that, and I want to hear it one day," she said, likely thinking the same thing.

"How about after the expedition when we're safe and far away?" Jaune offered. "Actually," he began, "what are your plans after the expedition? You going to stay around Vale at all?" he asked, thinking of what he'd mentioned back at the store. There was some good hunting outside Vale, and it wasn't the Grimmlands…

"Nah, I'm coming straight back," Kalie denied. "Conway promised me a steak dinner, and I aim to collect. Maybe he'll even make a barbeque of it," she dreamed, a bit of drool all but hanging from the side of her mouth as a gluttonous smile graced her lips.

"You and Conway?" Jaune asked, surprised. "Since when?"

"A couple months ago. Why?" Kalie gave him a confused look, and then slapped her head with the palm of her hand. "Ah, that's right. You got that job in the frontier, playing mailman and rock collector."

Checking on isolated villages and towns to make sure they hadn't fallen off the map, basically. And a bit of surveying and soil samples for SDC. But yeah - carrying a few letters too. Or he assumed they were letters. He hadn't exactly read them.

But still, her and Conway?

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

"That's... good to hear," Jaune said, and found he meant it. "For both of you. Conway's a good guy." Maybe not the most sympathetic to faunus, or miners, or faunus miners, but he didn't play by two sets of rules. Fair's fair, as Uncle would say. Conway was that, and more, and just like today always looking for an excuse to do not just the right thing, but the nice things. He could also provide for her- a rare sort of security in the often insecure frontier. "You're lucky, and so is he."

"I know," Kalie said with a soft smile. "Even if you can't take them with you, it's nice to be able to head back home and know someone's waiting with a smile, you know?"

"Yeah. I know," Jaune said, equally soft.

It wasn't a barb aimed at him, and he didn't take it as one, because he _did_ know. One of the reasons he'd been willing to take this job was because of how lonely it was at the cabin. With Mother and Uncle away at the city, the cabin big enough for ten felt painfully empty. It hadn't always been that way. Once, it had been filled with siblings and sisters, but they'd all gradually drifted away until it was just him and-

Kalie gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You've got people who worry for you, and people who will miss you if you don't come back," she reminded. "As long as you have that, then deep down you're not alone. Not really."

"Thanks," Jaune said, giving an honest smile. Even if they were just amicable exes, even if they weren't as close as they could have been (would have been, if it weren't for him), she was still the closest thing to a friend he had, and a damn true one at that. Even if they barely saw or spoke to each other.

Kalie smiled, even though she probably thought about him when he was gone as much as he thought about her. Which was to say not much. Not anymore. Out of sight, out of mind.

"So, what do you have in mind at Vale?" she asked.

"Not much," Jaune said, banishing his musings. "Thought I'd visit my sisters and see how the hunting was over there. Maybe even visit the Grimmlands on my way back."

"You know, not everyone would prefer almost certain death to a bullhead ride, Jaune," Kalie chided with a knowing smile.

"Hey, motion sickness is a very common-"

She ignored him. "Or maybe you just want to lay low?" she asked, teasing. "You piss off any Huntsmen lately? Today, perhaps?" she asked, leading back to business.

"Not that I know of," Jaune admitted. "How many teams do we have?"

"Two right now, with another one or two maybe coming in late," Kalie said. "Today we've got an all-girl team, and an all-boy team."

"Think I've met the girls," he said. "What do you know about the guys?"

"Not much," Kalie admitted. "They seem to have a team uniform thing going on, and they definitely keep together like a pack. Their leader is supposed to be the son in a line of heroes and Huntsmen, that sort of thing, mace and all. Made me think of you, except less rural."

Made her think of the Arcs, at least. "The pack look wild and crazy?" Jaune asked. Power and unpredictability were a bad combination in his experience.

"Not really," Kalie said. "Come to think of it, they looked like a disciplined bunch… armour, team uniform, stood at attention when they got off the Bullhead and got briefed. Almost military, really."

That… didn't sound too bad, honestly. Armor and uniforms didn't mean they were skilled, but discipline suggested the sort who were used to listening. Certainly, they had to be better than the mix of bad run-ins and arguments waiting to happen that made up the girls' team. "I'll take them," Jaune volunteered. "What's their name?"

Kalie looked at her notes and then back up.

"Team Cardinal."

/-/

Team RWBY showed up on time, at least. Technically they weren't late - maybe even a minute or two early - but they were the last ones there. Even Team CDRL had showed up fifteen minutes early. Considering that the briefing had already started, they might as well have been late. Team CRDL didn't pay them any mind, but the locals were clearly impatient.

The girls fell into position, even as their coordinator went over the mission plan once again for final questions and concerns. They tried to ignore the impatient looks from the locals. They were on time, or as close as they needed to be. What was the big deal? Yang shot a roll of the eyes to Blake, who already seemed to be in a bad mood. Maybe that had something to do with all the barking dogs around Edge. Yang would have asked, but settled down instead as the local before them spoke.

"You will all be taking bullheads to the mission area, with each team taking a separate area of responsibility," their briefer was briefing not very briefly at all. "Because of the uncharted Wildlands and high-danger zones between here and there, we won't be able to fly straight to the objective. We'll have to fly around the known Nevermore nests, which will add several hours to the trip flight time."

There were groans, especially from one blonde bombshell in particular. The briefer continued. "Because of the concern of rousing a murder of Nevermore, the Bullheads won't be able to maintain on station for long. You'll have to stick to the schedule for extraction tomorrow. Call for evacuation only if absolutely necessary." She looked at them, getting to the point. "Find the objective, find a suitable extraction point, and get out alive, in reverse order," she said. "We're here to rescue Lie Ren, and that's what we're going to do. Any questions at this point?"

Blake raised a hand. "Do we know if Ren is still alive?" she asked. "I've heard bullhead crashes in the Grimmlands rarely have survivors, even for Huntsmen."

The briefer shook her head. "You are referring to the uncharted Grimmlands, where survival rates are near zero per cent. Lie Ren activated his scroll's emergency beacon shortly after the report of the Nevermore attack on his Bullhead, and which was in an abandoned portion of the frontier. Over the last two days it has shown minor, but consistent, movement until twelve hours ago - we assess that he has kept it on his person while selecting a good hold-up spot, and is currently awaiting rescue. Our best estimates place him in the Wildlands."

He'd stood still and maintained position. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. Training for those in an unknown area would demand he activate a beacon and await rescue, but there was also a chance he was in one spot because he couldn't move, maybe due to an injury. Or he was dead, and the scroll was on the ground near where he'd been slain. It was either-or, really, but he didn't think anyone would appreciate him pointing that out.

They probably all knew it in the backs of their minds.

Dove from Team CRDL raised a hand. "Why are we going now, then?" he asked. "It sounds like we'd be getting there right before dusk. Wouldn't it be better to search during the daytime?"

The locals shot a glare at him, but Yang found herself nodding. It wasn't just that she'd miss her beauty sleep. It was that searching Grimm-infested woods at night promised to be a bitch. Even with a signal to track. Ren would see them coming, but unless he had some flares, it would be hard for him to signal to them.

"No," the briefer explained. "I know this mission is hasty, but we only have a brief window of opportunity to make this expedition work. We have reports of an approaching storm-front, one that will ground Bullheads for days. We are currently in the middle of the Golden Seventy-Two Hours, the period when the vast majority of all successful search and rescues are completed. A Huntsman is exceptionally strong and resilient to injury, but even your sort struggles to survive more than three days without food or water. We don't know if your friend is injured, or what he has available. If we wait, even if weather permitted, we will eclipse that window, and Lie Ren's chances will drop dramatically. He needs to be found within the next twenty-four hours- or he may not be found at all."

"Since we seem to have time to talk amongst ourselves," the briefer said with a pointed look at Dove and Yang, "I'm going to assume there's no further questions. The mission will start as soon as the Bullheads are ready to take off- until then, I suggest you take the time to get to know your guides. Kalie Sanders and Jaune Arc will be with you in a minute."

There were murmurs of surprise from the Beacon students.

"Jewels has a brother?" Yang asked, unaware.

"Unfortunately, yes," Weiss lamented.

"What's he like?" Yang asked. "Anything like her?" Awkward and inept, but fun in her own way… maybe a bit star-struck with Weiss as an idol, much to the absent Pyrrha's eternal chagrin?

"Unfortunately, no. That might be preferable," Weiss claimed.

"Well, what does he look like?" Yang tried to picture. Tried to think of a blonde, tall, but male…

"Oh no," Ruby whispered, pulling her red cloak over her head.

He looked…like the asshole from the bar, the same one she'd almost gotten into an argument with, right down to the red bandana on his arm.

"No, no, no, not him," Ruby whispered and almost tried to hide herself under the hood, which made Yang's fists curl. Finding Ruby moping-but-trying-to-hide-it had left her worried. Finding the cause made her eyes itch red. Family of a friend or no, Ruby was her family. If that bastard did anything to her…

Fortunately, he didn't make it to them. He stopped well short, not even trading hostile glances with them or anything, but turned to his companion - another hunter (or would it still be huntress?) with a green bandana. They exchanged some words and he left, turning so that he wouldn't even have to look at them as he made his way to Team CRDL. The snub was obvious, even without a dirty look.

"They deserve each other," Blake whispered, which more or less sealed the deal in Yang's book. If Blake didn't like you… well, even if Blake wasn't the warmest person, if she disliked you then you probably deserved it.

Yang saw their guide approaching and quickly washed away the thoughts, replacing them with a friendly grin. It wouldn't do to make a bad impression.

"Hey," the girl with the green bandana greeted them with a smile. "I'm Kalie, and I'll be your guide," she introduced. "I've been a hunter for four years, ever since I got out of school, and I've been to the area we're going once before, back when it was still part of the Frontier. I can't claim to know it like the back of my hand, but I'm familiar with the region as a whole."

She paused, and an embarrassed smile came on her face.

"And can I say it's an honour to be working with Huntresses from Beacon? I've never dealt with more than one Grimm at a time, and only small ones, so I'll be counting on you all if we run into any."

Yang smiled. "No prob, leave it to us," she claimed, pleased to be appreciated. Noticing that Ruby wasn't speaking up, and a bit surprised that Weiss wasn't grilling the girl on her credentials, Yang decided to lead the introductions. "I'm Yang, and this is my partner Blake, my sister Ruby, and her partner Weiss." Perfunctory 'hellos' were given. "I'm glad we got you rather than that asshole," Yang added, indicating Jaune.

Kalie frowned slightly, but held her tongue.

"You should be glad you got us instead of Team CRDL," Blake framed it in a different way.

Kalie frowned more. "Is there a problem with them?" she asked.

Team RWBY, sans Ruby, looked at each other.

"They are… how to say this nicely… stubborn louts," Weiss offered.

"Racists," Blake spat. "And bullies."

"A bunch of jerks," Yang finished. She saw Kalie's concern, and so tempered it a bit. "But they're not weak. And they owe Jewels. Their leader, Cardin, does anyway. He'll pay it back. Your… friend, he'll be safe if he just listens to them."

Kalie crossed her arms and didn't look nearly as impressed as Yang thought she would. "It should be the other way around." she said. "They should be listening to him. He may not look it, but Jaune has more time in the frontier than any hunter I've ever seen or heard of."

"Really?" Yang asked, sceptical. "I know some pretty old Huntsmen," she said, thinking of Uncle Qrow, and the Beacon Faculty.

"Older, sure, but how much time do they really spend out of Vale?" Kalie asked. "How often do you sleep outside walls, or without a bed?" She didn't make it an accusation, more of a rhetorical question. "As for huntsmen, we barely ever see any of them out here. They spend their time protecting the core cities of Vale. We're pretty much left on our own."

Blake flinched for some reason, and even Ruby looked down at the floor. Yang would have bristled, but the way the girl spoke didn't make it sound like a complaint or an insult, just a statement of fact. That stung, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Come to think of it, when was the last time she'd heard any news outside the city? They were often reports on how Huntsmen stopped a White Fang robbery or protected a dust shipment, but no one ever mention when a frontier town was saved.

And maybe she could have stood to be less of a bitch to him too, but to be fair, she was as worried about their missing friend as everyone else. Yang hadn't come to Edge to wait and waste time. She'd wanted to be out there straight away, then been forced to cool her heels in a bar. Little wonder her frayed patience snapped.

Still, what was done was done, and she was privately more than a little relieved they'd gotten Kalie instead of him.

"You sound like he's better than you," Weiss noted.

"He is a better hunter," Kalie admitted. "I've been hunting since I was fifteen, and I've only brushed the Wildlands. Jaune's been slipping through them since he was ten, and has even gone into the Grimmlands. He knows the area like the back of his hand. If there's anyone who can find your friend and get out, it's him."

Yang wasn't so convinced, even if she could vaguely remember the guy coming up on her unawares. How had he snuck so close, anyway? She was usually more alert than that, especially after a fight. Sneaking up on a Huntress was no mean feat.

"Wildlands and Grimmlands," Blake said, filling the silence. "The briefer used those terms as well. What's the difference? Isn't all the land out there the Grimmlands."

"Not to us. The Grimmlands are where Grimm territory is so thick, even animals stay away." Kalie explained with a patient smile. "No one survives the Grimmlands - well, almost no one. The Wildlands are more like unclaimed lands. Forests, plains, mountains, you name it - Grimm are there, but you can slip through if you're quick and it's where your friend is lost as far as we can tell, which is pretty lucky all things considered."

Yang had never heard the distinction before, and wasn't sure what to make of it now. They'd always been taught that everywhere outside the city walls belonged to the Grimm, and was thus the Grimmlands. Whatever. Maybe it was just one of those things the locals used to tell the difference. Kind of a `stay away from here, but it's okay to go here` kind of thing.

"Is he really that proficient?" Weiss asked. "He didn't… I'll admit I don't know him as well as you, but he doesn't exactly fit what I'd expect of a professional."

"Well…" Kalie hedged, and of course there was a hedge. More than half of team RWBY had been expecting it. "He's… not very good with people."

Yang snorted. Talk about an understatement. _Ruby_ wasn't very good with people. What he was ranked as something else.

"I think we noticed," Blake muttered.

Kalie waved her hands, both placating and defensively. "Not like that - I mean, he's not the best people person, especially with girls, but what I meant was that he hunts best alone, you know?" she said, as if they, each one of them partnered, would. "He doesn't team up like most hunters do. Says they'll drag him down in the Grimmlands. And he's right," she admitted, a bit sadly. "I- They do drag him down."

There was a story there, but the girl shook her head before Yang could press it. The smile was back, but now looked far more energetic. Kalie giggled and tilted her head to the side.

"He could find your friend on his own, no problem… but getting him out? He'd need help for that, so that's what those guys will be for. In fact, maybe we should trade teams," Kalie suggested nervously. "I wouldn't mind putting up and listening with this Team CRDL when it comes to Grimm. But if you'd be more inclined to listen to someone better than me-"

"We probably shouldn't," Weiss said. "I believe we've… already started off on a bad foot. Any gains from trading would be offset by our acrimony."

"Good or not, he's still a jerk," Yang remembered.

"That's not-" Kalie tried to defend her friend. "He's not like that with everyone. He's a good guy, really. It's just-"

"Huntresses," Ruby finished, speaking up for the first time. "It's because we're Huntresses, isn't it?" she said, though her silver eyes had no doubt.

"That makes no sense," Blake protested. "Huntsmen and Huntresses defend people from Grimm. Why would he dislike us for that? We didn't do anything."

"Maybe we did," Ruby returned. "And we just didn't realize it. Or maybe we _didn't_ do something we were supposed to, and he blames us for that. Or maybe it was someone else, but we just didn't care because it wasn't happening to us." She looked at Kalie. "It was Hunters like us, wasn't it?"

Kalie looked at them, and Yang felt a sliver of unease at how the rural girl didn't leap to their defence as the guardians of Remnant. Saw herself reflected in those eyes, and wondered what the girl saw aside from the prospective protector from Grimm.

A blonde who'd ensured she'd be lean in stomach and wallet for some time, as game would have to be shared rather than sold because too many already poor men would be out of work for weeks because of one blonde's boredom? The haughty city-girl who'd harassed a blameless boyfriend and innocent shop-keeper about things beyond his control? An elitist heiress who would have happily dismissed her help in volunteering to save someone she'd never met, due to lacking the right sort of diploma? A Reaper who might have raised her scythe in anger at a good deed being done with the wrong color of cloth?

Kalie said none of it, but Yang shuffled awkwardly nonetheless. She felt like she wanted to give an excuse, to explain why she'd done it. It was an unwelcome sensation.

"A Huntress, actually," Kalie admitted. "I don't know all of it, but I do know that he's had a lot of bad encounters with your kind. I don't know if he's ever had a good one. It's… you know, it's not really my place to say."

Yang wanted to ask more, but could take a hint when she saw it. She nudged Ruby just in case she hadn't, and gestured to the Bullhead. "We won't push. Why don't you tell us a little more about yourself and Edge in the Bullhead?"

Kalie looked relieved. "That sounds like a good idea. Let's go save your friend."

* * *

 **Howdy. C.F. again, with another chapter's worth of chapter notes. Big chapter... doesn't necessarily mean big thoughts.**

 **First and foremost, don't expect this size of chapter every time. Edge is an important part of setting up the story, but not so important that it needed three chapters (and six weeks) to do. Coeur chose the pacing, but he was working within the constraints of rewriting an already-written prologue. I initially wrote the first act on the 'post a day' concept, which can be seen in some of the chapter breaks here, like the President Schnee gag. Once we get past what I wrote, Coeur will have more flexibility on how to implement the plan- and thus likely more consistent chapter sizes.**

 **Second... dat character conflict. Some people asked why I'm using an unfamiliar Jaune, rather than create an OC. The answer is- because Jaune is well suited for the role. Jaune typically functions in canon and fanfiction as a blank-slate character who can develop in various different ways. This is a story where Jaune has been developed in a different way from that blank slate. Figuring out the what, how, and why is part of the hook for this story, for the sort of people who enjoy both character exploration and character development. Jaune is familiar enough that you have a basis to work from when seeing the contrasts, while an OC would be defined by first impressions alone and be unlikely to be given any benefit of the doubt. If an OC doesn't like Hunters, you can take that at face value. If Jaune reacts poorly to his canonical dream, it begs the question 'why?'**

 **It's also the same sort of reasoning for why Team RWBY was the choice for, ahem, less than stellar first impressions- because if canon-Jaune gets along with them from the start, you should wonder why non-canon Jaune doesn't click with the same people. Picking Team CRDL for that role would have been indulging in a cliche without contrast. Oh, hey, hunter!Jaune doesn't get along with the known jerks he didn't get along with in canon- who would have thought? Creating OC Hunters whose sole role was to be unpleasant so that the titular protagonist team wasn't would have been even more one-dimensional. If you don't use flawed but sympathetic people for character conflict, not only are you having shallower conflicts but you also invite the utopian fantasy of 'there wouldn't be conflict if the protagonist had a chance to get along with the good apples.' The best way to have flawed but sympathetic characters in fanfiction is to use the ones given to you in canon- who people already know, and so don't have to be (re)developed before they can be used.**

 **Here, Jaune met the good apples, and Team RWBY not being an exception to the rule is what proves there is a rule. Some of that is on them, some of that is on him, enough that it's not just bashing either side. But more importantly, it shows that Jaune's issues go beyond the 'jerk' Hunters. Jaune has issues with Huntsmen in general, even the 'good' ones...**

 **...which not only begs the question 'why,' but sets up future conflict. If Jaune couldn't get along with the 'good' Huntresses of Team RWBY, how well do you think he'll get along with Team CRDL?**

 **And how will that affect the inevitable encounter to justify the story's character tags?**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 7th October**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter of Hos. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

Much to Jaune's surprise, his meeting with Team Cardinal was quickest, and yet politest, downward spiral with a group of Huntsmen he'd ever had. It happened in all of the space of walking up to them and offering an admittedly curt nod and extended hand.

"Hello, I'll be your guide. The name's Jaune Arc," he greeted, at least trying to be cordial. More than he had with the others, at least.

Their leader, Cardin Winchester, left him hanging. "Jaune Arc? Is this your sister's idea of a joke?"

If it was, Jaune didn't see the punchline. "…maybe? Are you friends with my sister?" he hazarded a guess.

The much larger man-boy glowered.

"No."

And that was that. No handshake, no false niceties of hoping they could be friends, no easy chatter or questions about his qualifications. From strangers to simmering animosity in under a minute. That had to be a new record… and yet somehow still his best meeting with Huntsmen today.

Cardin had stayed quiet except to occasionally shoot him glares, the other members of CRDL had awkwardly shuffled but not broken the silence, and Jaune had shrugged and leaned against the Bullhead and closed his eyes, wondering what his other half had done this time. Even the brief interruption as a runner from SDC approached, handing him a bag, hadn't broken the tension.

Still, their open dislike of him was almost charming in its honesty.

The charm wore off soon enough, though, as the plane took off and the motion sickness set in. Even if he'd passed on breakfast and lunch in preparation- even if he had no cookies to toss- it didn't take long for the green to settle in. He remembered what his uncle taught him- took out some smoked deer jerky to chew on- but it only helped so much.

He knew the Huntsmen would notice. Knew that their kind smelled weakness like Grimm did fear. He'd barely grabbed a piece to chew on than his little package was liberated by… Lark was it?

"That looks good. Gimme some," the boy demanded, even as he was already taking a piece. Despite his uneasy appearance, Jaune made a grab to retrieve it- but the Huntsman-in-training jerked the jerky out of reach, even as he helped himself to more.

"Hey dude, share it," the mohawk kid urged. Not to Jaune, obviously, but soon that was how Jaune's snack became everyone else's.

"This _is_ good," Russel commended, even as he had a piece half in his mouth. Sucking on it like a piece of straw, he enjoyed Jaune's pillaged snack. "What kind of jerky is this?" he wanted to know.

Jaune looked at him, held it for just a moment, waited for the boy to give it a nice long suck- before answering.

"Deer Dong Jerky," Jaune answered weakly, fighting through his nausea to be heard clearly.

Russel's eyes went wide, his face turning as green as Jaune's, and he gave an involuntary suck and gag. It was well timed- and the pack turned on itself in favour of the fresher, bloodier meat.

"Dude, you're sucking deer dick?" his friends laughed. "Is there something you want to tell us?

"I thought you were civilized, dude," the other needled. "Next you'll be telling me you're into faunus."

"It's- it's not my fault! He's the one who had it!" Russel defended, pointing an accusing finger at Jaune. "What kind of-"

"Knock it off," Cardin interrupted, voice overruling the team. "If you weren't prepared to eat it, you shouldn't have taken it."

Jaune shot a look at Cardin. The other boy had been quiet most of the trip so far - except for the occasional glare shot in Jaune's direction - but…

"That's good advice," Jaune conceded, his respect for the Huntsman going up marginally. They shouldn't have taken it at all, obviously, but it was still good advice. Want not, waste not. Food would be hard to come by in the Wildlands.

Cardin snorted. "Whatever," he said, and went back to ignoring Jaune. His team seemed to follow his lead, leaving Jaune to suck on his not-actually-deer-dong deer jerky. Deciding he might as well to pass the time, Jaune took out the wrapped package he'd gotten from the SDC runner earlier. Despite their pretence, Team Cardinal watched as he opened the mystery gift.

"That a new scroll?" Dove asked, forgetting that he was supposed to be ignoring Jaune.

"Apparently," Jaune said. "Never seen one like this before." It looked like one, sure…

A note fell to the floor, and Lark picked it up.

"What's it say?" Jaune asked. Lark made to hand it over, but Jaune busied himself fiddling with the scroll, so Lark was left to read it.

"It says… something-something legalese… this it? It's a Schnee Dust Corporation proprietary scroll something-something more legalese… here it is. It's a Search and Rescue scroll for our buddy here," he said, with a certain false nicety on the word 'buddy.' "Weiss is saying it has all the maps loaded and frequencies to search for locked in, and… whoa, really?"

"What did she say?" Russel wanted to know. Jaune didn't care, trying to figure out how to make the damn thing work.

If he'd been looking up- hadn't been trying to focus so much on the scroll to keep his mind off his stomach- he'd have noticed the sneer coming across the boy's face.

Lark reached over, mocking smile apparent, and casually did what Jaune couldn't and turned the scroll on. "It'd help you hit the power button… no-scroll," he suggested, before turning towards his friends. "Our buddy here," he began, and the tone of his voice said the moniker was politeness only, "is so far in the pre-dust age that our dear Heiress had pity and gave him a scroll for the expedition."

"Whoa, really?" Dove asked. "No scroll? How do you live like that?"

Jaune opened his mouth to say 'by hunting', but a wave of nausea took him and he swallowed air instead.

"That's, like, primitive!" Dove continued, as if he'd heard it.

"What a backwoods rube," Russel laughed. "Have you even had a scroll before?"

Jaune said nothing, glared at the floor as he tried to master his stomach, but the fact that red was replacing green on his face gave his answer. Three boys laughed. One didn't.

"Do you know how to use a scroll?" Cardin demanded. And it was a demand- there was steel and strength in the words, and the three other members of CRDL fell silent as he waited for Jaune's response.

"Never needed to," Jaune admitted. It wasn't like there was much reception out on the frontier, or anywhere in the Grimm Lands.

"Great, another incompetent Arc," Cardin muttered, and whatever charm or marginal respect Jaune had left was buried under the flash of resentment.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

"Dove, teach him," Cardin ordered.

"What? Why me?" Dove ordered.

"Because Jauney Boy here doesn't know and he needs to," Cardin said, direct and to the point. "The last thing we need is for him to fall behind or get lost without a clue of how to set a distress beacon."

"I'm your guide. I have flares," Jaune pointed out.

"I don't care," Cardin bluntly said. "If you can't even operate a scroll, you're a liability. I owe your sister enough to keep you alive, and that's what I'll do. Dove, teach him the basics: he doesn't need to make a call or anything, just how to set or detect a beacon."

"And the maps," Jaune said. He wondered if they'd make him beg, but ultimately settled for asking nicely. "Please."

"Fine," Dove assented. "You should totally give me some of your food for teaching you," he muttered as he slid over.

Jaune pulled out a bag with one special finger.

"Eat deer dick."

For some strange reason, Dove didn't take Jaune up on his most generous offer. Instead the he worked on the scroll, grumbling all the while as he worked the various buttons. Despite the bad taste in his mouth, Dove did do as he was told, and Jaune quickly memorized the button presses to get him what he needed, and some of what he didn't.

"-and this takes you back to the main menu, where you can go back to the emergency beacon like I showed, or to the download library. Looks like that's where Miss Special Snowflake downloaded the maps, and... stories? Wha?" Dove remarked, exaggerating his disbelief. "Why'd she bother wasting space with that?"

"Might come standard with the scrolls," Lark remarked from the side. "I think mine had something like that when I got it."

"Totally useless," Dove opined, before looking at Jaune. "Want me to delete it for you?"

"I don't care. They're useless to me," Jaune said, already dismissing them from his mine even as an uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his gut. "Show me the maps."

Dove left the... folder?... alone, apparently letting laziness decide for him. Instead Jaune watched like a hawk as Dove pushed the buttons to select the right option. Instead of a screen filled with useless letters, there were rows of row of just a few letters and seemingly random numbers. The bad feeling went away at the sight of the familiar numbers, even as Dove let loose another groan while pushing one option at random. It opened a map, but clearly not the one they were looking for if the coastal strip was any indication.

"What the heck? Weiss gave us total junk. These maps aren't even named. They're totally useless," Dove whined, upset at having wasted even five minutes of his time. The others were surprised, even Cardin.

"Really?" the leader asked, raising an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like Miss Perfect."

"What would she name them anyway?" Lark asked, honestly curious. "Frontier forest one? Frontier forest two? What's out there worth naming?" he asked.

"I dunno," Dove replied, "but anything would make more sense than this. These names are just... gibberish! 'NWVC 340 239?' What does that even mean?" he asked. "Sorry man," he offered to Jaune, preparing to turn off the power. "Looks like this junk-"

"Hold it," Jaune interrupted, swallowing another round of nausea and reaching for his rucksack. "Let me check something real quick." While the boys looked on curiously, Jaune dug through his ruck until he found what he was looking for. When he pulled it out, they saw a little black book that Jaune quickly flipped open.

"You have a diary, dude?" Russ asked, either skeptical or bemused. "Who even does that?"

Jaune ignored him, looking for one page in particular. Looking at the screen, then the page, and back to the screen, he nodded to himself. "Go back to the map menu," he told Dove, who did as he said. Jaune grabbed another thing from his bag- this time a well-worn map- and opened it just long enough to check something. He looked back at the screen, scanning the gibberish intently. "Try this one," he said, poking at one of the many lines.

Dove did, and wasn't impressed. "Hey, what do you know. A sea of green. Another empty forest. Big whoop."

Jaune surprised him by taking the scroll from his hands, and then kneeling on the floor of the bullhead. He pulled out his paper map again, and laid it on the floor beside the scroll.

"That's not just any forest - that's the one we need," Jaune said, putting the scroll beside his map. He looked up at them. "This is where we're going."

That caught their interest, and the boys either craned their necks to look or got closer.

"How do you know?" Lark asked, looking at the scroll and the paper. They were, in fact, the same. "There's no name."

"There is, but that's not important. What is important is that these," Jaune tapped the seemingly random numbers, "are grid coordinates. It's telling us what area the map covers."

Russel whistled. "You could tell that just by looking?" he asked, willing to admit he was impressed.

Jaune shrugged. "I've been around most of the frontier. NWVC? That just means North West Vale Coast, or the coast northwest of Vale. The area codes change depending where you go. I just remember these because I learned to hunt in these parts."

That, at least, seemed to get Cardin's attention. He learned forward, clearly paying attention. "Is that so? What can you tell us about the area, Jauney boy?"

Jaune frowned at the name, but answering was his job as a guide. He brushed his hand on the map, getting everyone's attention.

"We'll probably be focused on this area of the Lunar Cry Mountains," Jaune said, indicating a green but clearly unever portion of the maps. Tons of line, some of them in odd circles, showed constant elevation changes. "They call them mountains, but they're really just the forested foothills of the Great Barrier Mountains. Lots of slopes and little valleys between the hills, but nothing too severe. They've been abandoned frontier longer than I've been alive, but thanks to that the game-"

"Is nice, I'm sure," Cardin said impatiently, waving him forward. "What about the Grimm?"

Jaune frowned. Didn't anyone teach these Hunters that Grimm usually mirrored the game of the area? Well, whatever. It's not like he would hunt for them if they asked him anyway.

"Usual forest types," Jaune said. "You got your Beowolves, your nevermore, even Boarbatusks. The Ursa tend to stay closer to the Barrier mountains where there are more caves. You've got mountain streams out here, but no major rivers, so there aren't any water-Grimm to worry about," he said.

The Huntsmen appreciated that, and were all nodding their heads approvingly. "Good. That's useful. What else? Density? Size? Locations?"

Jaune frowned. These were harder questions, and less helpful than they seemed. "This part of the frontier hasn't had humans in some time, so there's no one to really attract them, but there hasn't been anyone to clear them out either. The last time a group of Huntsmen were around to try a purge was...?" He tried to remember, but then a sharper frown came across his face. He took a breath, and pushed past it. "There's a fair number of Grimm, but most aren't that old."

"How much is a fair number? Are we talking packs of Beowolves over every ridge, or loners? What does that actually look like?" Cardin pressed. His team looked down at the map, where the squiggly lines and vaguely circled lines could- if you looked just right- start to show the relief of valleys and ridgelines across the region.

"The Grimm aren't that dense," Jaune said, drawing a finger down some of the smaller valleys. "Grimm are territorial, but they don't co-locate usually. Birds and beasts might, but you'll almost never see a pack of Beowolves and Boarbatusks in the same valley. Actual packs might claim several valleys, and that's good for us."

"It is?" Dove asked, blinking. "Won't that mean there's more of them to deal with?"

"Sure, if you have to," Jaune conceded, but he didn't sound concerned. "But the larger the pack, the more territory, and so the more space to the next pack. That makes it easier to slip between unnoticed. Plus, the Grimm are lazy."

"Ha," Lark scoffed, rubbing his arm. "Could have fooled me."

Jaune narrowed his eyes, just a little. "Not when they know people are around, obviously. But outside of a fight, Grimm are like any other animal- they follow the path of least resistance. Walking uphill is harder than walking downhill, so they'll usually stay in the valley floors. They like shrubbery, so they'll stay in the greener areas to get some. They get thirsty, so they'll pick a nest where it's not too far to get a drink." He shrugged. "Like I said- lazy."

"But everyone knows Grimm don't have to eat," Russ protested. "Why should they care about water? You're just guessing."

"Why do they care about people if they don't need to eat us?" Jaune returned. "I don't know if they'd die without it, but they sure don't seem to mind it. Save with shrubbery. Maybe they don't strictly need it, but even Grimm like softer nests or something to rub against." He shrugged again. "Believe me or not, but I've seen them drinking myself. And I'm still alive, so I'm doing something right," he said.

Surprisingly, it was Cardin who seemed to accept that first. "Let it go," he told Russ. "If he's right, he's right. And if he's wrong, that's what we're here for. One pack every few valleys, you said?" Cardin repeated.

Jaune frowned, just slightly, but nodded. "Yeah. And if you're not making a scene, they probably won't know what's going on the next ridgeline over, let alone care. As long as you don't pick the one part of the valley they're staying, the rest of their territory is pretty safe, especially if you keep to the side of the hills." He paused, but felt compelled to add, "That's as long as you're not detected, though. If you are, territory won't matter. Any Grimm that hears can alert others, and they'll alert more, and they'll all come running. Five Grimm can become fifty, or more, in a matter of minutes." Many hunters had learned that the hard way. He'd been one of the lucky few to survive. His mouth had a thin line as he gathered up his map.

Cardin gave an unwelcome clap on the shoulder, as if to cheer him up.

"Well then," the bigger boy began with clearly false friendliness, "if that happens I hope you're as good at running away as I hear you are."

 _Breathe. Hold…_

The map crumpled in Jaune's fist. He clenched his eyes shut.

 _Let go…_

/-/

To say they landed mid-afternoon would have been a misnomer- in this part of wilds, where there were no farm fields, and forests had been undisturbed for generations. The only clearings there ever were the remains of natural wildfires, and even those were replete with burnt stumps at best and covered with new brush in short order. That was a matter of months after a burn - this 'field' was decades out of date. The Bullhead could only get so close to the ground.

"So, what's the landing strategy?" Jaune asked as they hovered fifty, sixty feet off the ground. Despite his lingering nausea, he took the chance to appreciate a rare view of the forest from up high. Though the treetops made it hard to see the ground itself, the canopy still showed the gentle rise and falls of the hills beneath. A great green carpet stretched to the horizon, all the way to the great barrier mountains barely visible in the distance, where little dots of white capped the mountain peaks. They were lucky to see them- no trees or city pollution to obscure the sky- and no clouds either. Those could have been rolling in from the other direction, a dark mass unquestionably about to let more than shadows fall beneath them. Even from here he could feel it on the warm breeze against his face. Even as he oriented himself to the terrain on his mental map, Jaune took a deep breath as he treasured a view unrivalled by any Kingdom skyscraper.

Team CRDL didn't seem to appreciate the view, or the question. "We land. That's the strategy." Cardin said simply, and led his team in jumping out of the bullhead. No one died from the superhuman feat- no screams of snapped legs or twisted ankles- but then, they were Huntsmen.

Jaune was just a hunter.

"I was kind of hoping for a parachute or something," Jaune lamented. The pilot helpfully lowered a ladder, but it was an awkward affair, especially with his ruck sack on his back. Below him Team Cardinal were watching the skies warily - no nevermore yet, but it was only a matter of time.

"Just drop!" Cardin ordered, impatient. "We'll catch you!"

Jaune considered… and shrugged, letting his ruck fall from his shoulders. It fell about as gracefully as he would have- and hit the ground with a force he wouldn't have been able to walk away from when whichever member of Team Cardinal had been below it had jumped out of the way rather than catch it.

He could hear the sound of a crack even from up here, and hoped it wasn't the frame. This expedition would be a bitch if he had to walk the entire thing with a broken ruck sack.

Russel, the Cardinal who had jumped, had the grace to look… well, sheepish, but not too ashamed call out for Jaune to follow the fate of his ruck. "We'd catch you!" he promised.

Yeah… no. Jaune took the safe way, one step at a time, even if it took an agonizing amount of time.

When he finally placed feet on ground (blessed, unmoving ground), Cardin all but threw his ruck into his arms. "Ruck up," the leader demanded. "We've got to make up time because of you."

Jaune ignored him, inspecting his frame for damage (none-good- the contents broke the fall), and then pulling out the map of the local area before he donned the ruck.

"Worry about yourselves," Jaune said. "I won't be slowing you down."

Not even five minutes later, he was eating those words, or would have if he wasn't trying to breath. Grimm damn it, he was slowing them down. _Because they were idiots._

When they had broken into a light jog, he had thought it was because they were in a hurry to get out of the not-really-clear clearing, and under cover that would protect them from Nevermore. Then they had kept jogging- speeding up down a hill- and practically barrelled through the underbrush.

Team Cardinal practically treated like a race- instead of Jaune leading, carefully poking through the brush, they surrounded him as if by prior agreement (which it probably was). If Jaune tried to pick up speed- tried to slip ahead of them so he could at least try to do his job- they sped up to match him. And if Jaune slowed down, they slowed down to- until whoever was behind him, generally Cardin, would give him a shove and tell him to keep up. Until Cardin took the lead broke brush, giving Jaune a clearer path (and making him guard his eyes from countless limb whiplashes).

Jaune put up with it at first- wanted to find the best words first- until they wanted him to run back up a ridgeline. Jaune stopped, and caught his breath.

He received another shove for his respite. "Don't tell me you're tired already," Cardin remarked with scorn. While Jaune was panting beneath his ruck, Cardin and Team Cardinal had barely broken a light sweat despite their armor, even if they too were panting lightly. "Rest at the top," he directed, giving Jaune a goal point.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

Jaune shot a glare at him even as he regained his breathing. "I'd rather not be that stupid," he said. "This isn't some peaceful woods right outside of Vale. This is the Wildlands! What the heck are you thinking?"

Cardin glowered. "I'm thinking we need to get to Lie Ren as soon as possible," he said. "The sooner we do, the sooner can get out of the Grimm Lands. The fastest way to do that is to take the shortest path between us and him," he said. "And that's that way," he said, pointing in the direction, pointing straight up the hill.

Jaune rolled his eyes. "As the Nevermore flies, sure," he said. "But we're not Nevermore and the Grimm aren't going to ignore us if they see us - which they will, if you cross a ridgeline in full view of everything around, after making a racket breaking brush. Do you hear that?" he asked, cupping his ears.

Team Cardinal stopped, looked, and listened. All they could hear was the sound of their own breathing- and once that calmed, not even that.

"I don't hear anything," Lark claimed.

"Exactly," Jaune said. "You hear nothing because there's nothing around. What does that tell you?"

Dove, not the smartest, didn't catch on. "That there's nothing around to hear us, duh."

Jaune wanted to snap, but held back. It wouldn't do to anger these guys like he had the Huntresses. "It means we've already been heard," he explained. "This is the Wildlands - but Grimm don't hunt. Not like people, anyways. Normally an area like this would be filled with game and birds and animals. A forest this undisturbed should be loud with life and yet it's as silent as the grave."

Cardin was a bit quicker on the uptake. "You think the Grimm have noticed us?" His team gasped and instinctively went for their weapons.

Jaune quickly shook his head, but kept his voice low. "If the Grimm knew where we are, they'd be attacking. The fact that they aren't means we're safe for now. But they'll notice the forest is silent, and they'll be curious as to why."

"What do you suggest?" Dove asked.

Jaune pulled out his map, and Team Cardinal gathered around.

"We go around the ridgelines, where it's harder to be seen, and not over, where anything around can see us doing so," Jaune said, sketching a far more meandering route on his map with a finger. "And not barging through everything like a Boarbatusk on a roll. We need to walk."

"But that'll take forever!" Lark protested. Not only would they be increasing their distance, they'd be halving their pace- or worse. "We're on the clock here!"

Jaune shook his head, remembering what his Uncle had taught him. "Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," he returned. "If we're noticed, it'll draw the attention of every Grimm in miles- and that'll slow us down even more. Or bring their attention to your friend."

"He's not our friend," Cardin responded, but he gave Jaune serious consideration… for now, at least.

"Alright, Jauney boy," he decided, and Jaune bristled at the patronizing tone. "We'll play it your way for now. Lead on… but don't forget who's in charge here," he said. "If we fall behind, we'll do it my way."

Jaune nodded. Not like he expected much else from a pack of wannabe-heroes.

Time to show them how a real hunter walked.

/-/

Jaune was in overdrive, on a hot streak, in the zone, or any number of metaphors that wouldn't have made any sense to him so far from the city. But even he knew he was doing good. Call it pride, call it ego, call it refusing to give less than his best when Team Cardinal was watching for the slightest hint of a screw up - but he did his job right.

Telling them to walk quietly through the brush, Jaune gave them a direction and scouted ahead. Moving faster they would, keeping quieter than they could, Jaune put distance between them and let them catch up. Scouting the turns, keeping an ear to the ground (literally, at times), and letting Team Cardinal catch up just enough so that they would see him and know he hadn't left them behind.

That would have been easier than it should have been, and Jaune may have had more fun toying with the idea than was proper. Every time they caught up- by the time they picked him apart from the foliage and saw him patiently waiting on a rock or log or leaning against a tree- they never ceased being surprised at just how close they were to him by the time he let his presence be known. Then, before they could reach him and whatever spot he'd chosen to rest, he'd be up again and darting into the brush. They strained over their own breaths to hear the very soft pitter-patter he left behind, the sound of leaves and needles nothing compared to relative cacophony they made until he was out of sight again. They would follow, as best they could, and then the cycle would repeat as he made sure they were on the right path once again.

The forest hills were real, but not quite mountainous, and the canopy shade was thick enough that the worst of the summer heat was averted. He was sweating more from the humidity than the hardship, and though he might have been tempted to take off the jacket were he on his own he was glad for the protection against the underbrush all the same. Without needing his bow out to hunt he was free to use his gloved hands freely, and he wasn't encumbered by having to carry his prey around either. For him, today was an easy hike.

For Team CRDL, it was something else, and mostly their own fault. They were clearly not used to the humidity, not used to spending so long outside and away from the comforts of an air-conditioned training area. One hour, maybe two, and they had made no complaints. Three, four, and they were gasping, sweat was visibly soaking their clothes. A lot of that was their own fault, the consequence of hiking in full armour in the middle of the summer. They also insisted in carrying their weapons at the ready at all times, a defensiveness that struck Jaune as paranoid. The Grimm were always a threat out here, yeah, but not in the sense of appearing out of nowhere at any time.

But really, they just struggled trying to keep a formation on the side of a hill, rather than working on relatively flat terrain like a training yard. To him, it was no problem, but they struggled with balance and pace, clambering over rocks when it would conserve energy to traverse around them. It was worse in in the draws with thickets because of their tendency to cut through brush rather than seek the easier path. That was the thing about Huntsmen, he supposed. They liked to face their problems head on.

They were getting tired, the pressure of the silence and tension and the weight of their own feet catching up with them. Jaune could see it. So could Cardin, and after the fourth hour he finally called a break. Team Cardinal could outrun Jaune… but Jaune could outwalk them. Not a surprise- he'd walked a horse to death before.

Russel, Dove, and Lark all but collapsed in exhaustion. Cardin didn't- almost flushing in shame as he saw Jaune's raised eyebrow at the three- but took to overseeing his people. "Take five. Eat something and drink water," he directed, but didn't follow his own advice until he saw his team doing so. None of them had bags, but they had small pockets and pouches with what they'd brought with them.

They were going to regret their packing choices soon enough, but hopefully it wouldn't matter if they could keep this pace up.

"We're behind schedule," Cardin said to Jaune. "We're not going to find him today."

Jaune disagreed. "We're on track. We can reach him this evening."

Cardin gave a derisive snort. "Not if we keep moving at this pace. We need to either speed up or cut ridges."

Jaune frowned. "They're more likely to find us."

Cardin didn't care. "Then let them- we can handle a few Grimm."

Jaune disliked that sort of arrogance. "It's not a matter of a few Grimm- out here, it could be five, or fifty, with another five hundred less than an hour away."

"Then we need to spend fewer hours here," Cardin said. "But we're not going to fall further behind schedule. Either you find us a shorter path, or we'll start running after you again."

Jaune grimaced. "Give me ten minutes," he said, dropping his pack, and disappeared into the brush.

Cardin watched him go, almost impressed despite himself at how quickly Jaune escaped his senses.

"What a rube," Lark muttered. "Looking down on us because we can't be quiet and be sneaky shits like him."

"Guy acting all superior when he couldn't keep up jogging. I'd like to see him face-to-face with a Grimm," Russel was bitter.

"At least we got another five minutes to rest," Dove pointed out, taking his silver lining where he could.

"Not a chance- we go on our schedule, not his," Cardin decreed. "You three be ready in three- if he's not back, we'll pick up and follow him. I haven't heard or seen any Grimm around- have you? We're wasting time, and a guide who can't get us where we need on time isn't much use at all."

"But, uh, what if we come across Grimm?" Lark asked, a bit nervous.

"Then we take them out quick and quiet," Cardin said. "Simple as that."

His team groaned, but in a way that Cardin knew meant they would comply. While they checked their feet, shaking some loose twigs or grit from their shoes, Cardin finally took a drink from his own canteen as he carefully watched the clock on his scroll. When the time passed, he was just about to decide who would carry Jaune's bag when a voice sounded from behind.

"I've got good news and bad news," Jaune whispered by way of greeting, making them jump in fright and spin around.

"Sweet Lord, stop doing that!" Lark demanded, but his voice was low as well- reading the cue from Jaune's own.

Cardin ignored his teammate. "What do you have for me?" he demanded.

"Bad news is that there's Grimm just over and down the ridge. A pack of Boarbatusks," Jaune revealed.

"How do you know?" Dove asked, gripping his daggers.

"I saw them."

"I thought you didn't go over the ridge lines."

"I looked over. Carefully," Jaune claimed.

"So, what's the good news?" Sky wanted to know, whispering. "How many are there?"

"I'm not sure- but they're all in a den, and sleeping. Must be a night brood that's sleeping for the day. If we stay quiet and go around, they'll never know we're here."

"How many?" Cardin wanted to know.

"Not sure," Jaune admitted. "They're in a den- at least four from where I could see, but that's not important." He pointed back in the way they had previous travelled. "It's a little out of the way, but I know a narrow draw that would take us past them. It might add half an hour, but we'd get by without a fight."

Cardin stood. "That's too long. We'll move across the ridge and take them."

Jaune looked at him in surprise. "But we don't need to," he tried to argue. "They're not a threat to us."

Cardin gave a contemptuous laugh. "They're Grimm. They're always a threat. Just for existing they deserve to die- and I'm not going to let them delay us any longer. This way we do the world a favor, take a shorter path, and don't have to worry about our flank later tonight." He rose, and Team CRDL rose behind him, a look of anticipation on their faces.

With Cardin committed, Jaune could either help them pull this off… or not, and watch them try. Even if he disagreed- even if this was a bad idea- not going along with it would be worse.

"Bloody blood-thirsty Huntsmen," he muttered under his breath as Team Cardinal staged itself on this side of the Ridge-

Their chances would be better if he tried to help than not. So he guided them to the proper place along the ridge, and pointed out the Grimm den. There they were- the bane of mankind, monsters of the night, curled up and sleeping like cuddly cute dolls with bony tusks and dreaming sweet dreams of flesh and blood.

"Perigen Falcon formation," Cardin told his team. "You just stay here and out of the way," he told Jaune.

"Perigen Falcon?" Jaune asked

"It means we'll be so quick they won't have a chance to make noise." He gave a mocking grin. "Don't worry, we'll be quiet," he said. "Now stay back and watch real Huntsmen at work."

And then jumped.

All of Team Cardinal took a running jump- leaping in a way Jaune never had and probably never would- straight over the ridge and down the far hill like birds of prey. Cardin, mouth roaring a silent battle cry, landed at the mouth of the den with a mighty blow of his mace that crushed the Grimm, tusks and all, in a single hit. No sooner had he done so than the follow-up halberd flew into the den, pinning something with a pained, mercifully short, squeal. The two remaining members of CRDL darted in, sword and daggers raised, and made short work of whatever remained.

And just like that, it was over. By the time Jaune walked down the ridge, ruck on his back and carefully keeping eyes peeled for any other Grimm or dens, there weren't even scratches on them.

Cardin was standing tall, standing proud, chest puffed out. "And that's how real Huntsmen get things done, Jauney boy" he boasted. "No pussyfooting around like you."

Jaune glared, but didn't look in Cardin's direction. "You know that was reckless, right?" he asked, just to make sure.

"What?" Cardin said, false innocence. "Everyone knows Grimm go in packs of their own. No more Boarbatusks. No more threat."

Jaune still looked around. There was something in the air- something he couldn't see, but could sense all the same, and there was that-

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

And then Jaune knew.

"Grimm shit!" he swore, just before there was a scream and a flapping of wings.

"Nevermore!" Russel cried, even as grabbed for his shoulder.

"Don't let it get away!" Cardin roared. "It'll alert the rest of the Grimm!"

Eyes darted, trying to find where the wings were flapping-

"There!" Dove cried, pointing in the direction of flapping wings. It was small- minute really- a baby bird of murder, still no bigger than a crow.

"Sky!" Cardin directed.

"On it!" the silver-haired member of the Team said, and hefted his halberd for a mighty throw. It lanced through the air, chasing down the fleeing Grimm.

The Grimm turned. The halberd missed. It got away.

Jaune lowered his bow, having never fired.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

Cardin did not. Armored fists grabbed Jaune by his jacket and lifted him up, high enough that his feat left the ground.

"What the hell?" Cardin demanded. "Why didn't you shoot?!"

"There was no point," Jaune answered simply.

"No point?!" Cardin echoed. "It got away! You could have stopped it!"

Jaune shook his head. "A Nevermore that young wouldn't be far from its murder, and they'd know that one of their own was killed. Killing it wouldn't have made a difference. The Grimm know we're here. Killing it would have alerted the murder."

"What was - we're still good, right?" Dove asked, paling. "It can't talk. They don't know we're here. They can't!"

"What- what do we do?" Russel asked, shaken.

Cardin looked to Jaune, and imperceptibly paled when Jaune gave a silent nod.

"Get your weapon," Jaune told Sky in a tone that brooked no disagreement.

"Now, we run."

/-/

They ran.

It wasn't the first time Jaune had fled Grimm in their own lands.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

It wasn't the first time he'd doubted every shadow, wanted to duck at every bent twig.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

It wasn't the first time he'd fled for his life. He wasn't scared.

But it was the first time he'd fled for someone else's.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

Unlike him, they were afraid.

And in the Grimm Lands, fear was death.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

He didn't stop outright, didn't pretend to be spent, didn't make them fear that they were going to be caught. But he did slow- carefully, steadily, setting a pace. Repeating his mantra, he controlled his breathing- in, out. Step, breath. Breathe, hold, let go, and do it again.

His stride, became steady. His breath set the rhythm. He set the pace- and then the pace slowed.

Ten minutes after they started- ten minutes that felt like an hour- the finally stopped when Jaune slowed to a walk.

"What are we stopping for? They're still behind us! We need to keep moving!" Dove urged- but the panic that had once had his eyes wide had subsided. His breath was caught even before they stopped.

"We're safe. We can stop running now," Jaune lied. It was a lie in the sense that the Grimm Lands were never safe- death always around the bend, no place ever safe for long. But it would be true - or true enough - if they believed him.

They did- probably because his voice was steady, and his tone calm, and his posture screamed the confidence born of experience.

"We're far enough away that they aren't likely to find us," Jaune claimed. "Even Nevermore can't see through these trees. If anything, we're going to run into new Grimm."

"But behind us-" Russel began.

Cardin gave him a sharp shove. "We're in the Grimm Lands, dolt. There are Grimm all around us."

That didn't put them at ease, even if it was honest.

Jaune tried a different way. "Grimm are territorial.

"We're in the Grimmlands, dolt. There are Grimm all around us," Cardin said, giving a sharp shove. That was honest, but didn't put them at ease. Jaune tried another way.

"Grimm are territorial," he began, as soothing as he could. "They don't fight each other over intrusions, but they don't cross it lightly either. Unless they're on your track they won't follow you for long."

"Then how do you survive out here?" Lark asked. "You're just going from Grimm to Grimm."

"You keep moving forward, no matter what," Jaune answered. "Never stay in one Grimm's territory any longer than you have to. Never pick a fight you can avoid. But never rush in a panic. These are the Grimm Lands- they belong to the Grimm. This is their territory. We're the trespassers here. Remember to act like it."

The Huntsmen gritted their teeth at being told that- but held their tongue. Even they knew that they couldn't handle an entire forest of Grimm.

Dove tried to make the best of it. "Well, at least we're ahead of schedule, right?" he hoped. "All that running-"

Jaune didn't say anything- didn't want to lie and bring back their anxiety. They'd run… but not in the best direction. In trying to keep them behind ridges and out of sight- in trying to let them burn off their nervous energy until they were calm- they'd gone off track. They weren't lost- but they weren't where he wanted to be either.

Cardin saw him thin his lips, and withheld a grimace himself. But he kept the lie. "Don't get complacent. We're walking as far as we can tonight."

And so they did. The evening passed in silence. After their scare, they listened to Jaune, but even he could feel the tension piling on them. The fingering of weapon hilts to calm them. The way every crack was treated as a potential oncoming hoard. The leaping at shadows. Soon the Grimm wouldn't need to see them, they'd be able to smell the fear.

Still they went deeper into the forest- or tried, until even the moon was blocked out by impenetrable clouds. "Ow!" Dove exclaimed as he walked into a branch he couldn't see. Maybe it had always been there, or maybe it was whiplash from Cardin in front of him.

Either way, a soft glow of aura soon lit the area as a scratch healed itself. It had been doing that a lot- especially as the sleeveless boy was nicked by the brush. And just like every other time, Jaune hissed in displeasure and shielded his eyes too late.

"Keep it down, will you?" Jaune asked. He could have been talking about the aura, or the sound, or the light.

"It hurt!"

"Deal with it," Lark snapped.

"Easy for you to say. I don't have armor or sleeves like the rest of you!" Dove shot back.

"And whose fault is that?" Jaune muttered, unable to help himself. It's not like them going into the woods was a secret.

Russell tried to rouse their spirits. "Look at the bright side, Dove," he suggested. "Just be glad you aren't Team RWBY."

There was a couple of chuckles, and even Jaune felt his lips curl upward. Miniskirts, garters, and more skin and unkept hair than you could shake a fashion magazine at?

And hiking in heels, no less? He hoped Kalie took some before and after pictures.

If there wasn't a life on the line, this would no doubt be an excellent learning experience for these young Huntsmen. A practical demonstration of what the real world outside the Kingdom walls was like, and the consequences of poor planning for the wilderness. But of course, there was a life on the line, and the thought that this entire rescue expedition was being treated like a training trip brought his lips back down.

"Wouldn't be so bad if we could see anything," Dove muttered, glancing at the cloudy sky above. Only the moon shone brightly enough to be seen through the overcast, and even then, just barely.

"If you weren't killing our night-vision with your aura, we'd be able to see things," Russell snapped. That might have been true most nights- but on a night with so little illumination, there still wouldn't be anything to see with, night-vision or no.

That sparked an idea for Dove. "Well, what if I kept it on?" he wondered, and deliberately began to rise his aura.

Cardin beat Jaune to the punch, which is to say he gave a punch rather than a frantic grab. "Knock it off," he said, an easily absorbed blow rocking Dove's head. "You shine that light, and every Grimm around will be able to see us."

More than that, actually, but Jaune didn't have to answer. Dove rubbed his head, but followed his team leader's point.

"Jauney boy," Cardin called, bringing their guide into the conversation for the first time since the slowdown. "How much longer?" he wanted to know. "Can we reach him tonight?"

Jaune considered. Considering how off-track they'd been thanks to their run- considering the rate of progress- weighing the chances that they might get the attention of some nocturnal Grimm or stumble into a fight…

Sky Lark tripped on a root and fell into a bush.

"Probably not," Jaune admitted with a sigh. He could- but not with them. Not before dawn rose anyway. And even if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to find this particular spot again.

"Then we won't," Cardin decided, making the command decision. "We stop and rest till dawn. Everyone gets some sleep."

Jaune didn't protest, didn't argue. It wasn't a bad decision.

But this was the Grimm Lands. Rest was one thing… but would any of these four be able to sleep?

/-/

The answer, obvious soon enough, was no. There were as many reasons as there were members of Team CRDL, and Jaune considered each with a cautious eye as he took in the crevice of a draw he'd chosen as a hold-up location. It was barely more than a crevice on the side of a hill, out of site even during the daylight, and as safe as anything would be about here. Saying that had done little for the others, who'd been hoping to find a lucky cave to hole up in until they'd given up looking.

Cardin, team leader that he was, took the first guard shift despite Jaune volunteering. Perhaps he was being the Team Leader he should be, selflessly wanting his teammates to get some rest while they could. Perhaps he selfishly didn't want his own sleep interrupted in the middle of the night. Maybe he just didn't think a country bumpkin without a huntsman education capable of standing guard, or of recognising a Beowolf from a sparrow. It didn't matter. Nor did his dismissal of Jaune's volunteering for the first shift. Jaune had his reasons to stay up for now. He'd be on alert all night regardless. Too on guard to really be called asleep even when he was resting.

Dove was the first to complain about the ground and comfort: uneven, lumpy, sticks and stones and the awkwardly placed root. They dared not take off their armour, and had brought no pillow worth the name. They sent envious looks at his ruck sack, which was resting under a tree. They hadn't brought sleeping bags - none of the Huntsmen seemed to have brought anything but meagre rations which were eaten in silence. They had come out here intending to rough it out, but now the Wildlands were out roughing them. Maybe they'd expected an easy and quick affair, the Grimm fleeing in terror from brave Huntsmen.

Russel, Mohawk boy that he was, lucked out on the issue of armour, but had his own problem instead. The boy was practically curled into a ball as the night chill set in, shivering whenever a breeze blew by. Too proud or nervous to seek body warmth, but too cold to fall asleep, he had to be repeatedly told not to start a fire. Jaune considered digging out his spare jacket to give to him, but decided against volunteering it, considering how freely Russel had helped himself to his supplies earlier. The boy had every reason, and every opportunity, to pack ahead of time. He'd survive a cold night. It'd even teach the Hunter a lesson about trying to power through the wilds. Jaune relished the thought even as he was grateful for his own hooded jacket.

Lark, though… Jaune felt pity for Sky Lark, as the boy looked mournfully at the clouds above them as it started to sprinkle. Rain was never fun. It didn't kill you - not directly - but it made everything worse. You could have a poncho (which none of CRDL did). You could wear water-resistant clothing (which Jaune did - relishing his jacket once again). But you couldn't do anything about the ground turning to muddy slush beneath you, about your comfortable little wallow turning into a puddle. Rain meant being wet. Wet meant everything was colder, stickier, and messier. Jaune had his jacket, but only one poncho for when it really rained hard, and that poncho was only big enough for one person. Maybe two, if you didn't mind sharing space.

These were reasons they might not fall asleep. These were certainly reasons they'd give if he asked. But Jaune knew the real reason- the reason they weren't all just hugging their knees and looking at each other miserably, but were looking into the darkness with wide eyes. Could hear it in their breathing, which would pause at any inopportune crack from outside their meagre perimeter. Could practically smell it downwind of them as he walked outside their perimeter, fiddling with brush even as he disappeared in and out of their sight. The fact that they could see what he was doing- turning twigs into tripwires, moving brush here and there to better see or not be seen- the fact that he was improving their perimeter only drove in that there things out there to need a perimeter against.

They were afraid. And in the Wildlands, fear was death.

Only one thing to do, then. Time for a distraction.

Jaune finished his patrol, and made his to his pack and picked it up, getting their attention as he did so. He carried it towards them- towards the little spot under the trees where Team CRDL was huddled cold and awake, and plopped down his ruck in front of them before taking a seat on it.

"How you liking your first night in the Wildlands?" Jaune asked from his meagre throne. "Living the Legend yet?"

"It sucks. It's cold." Russel was the first to respond. He threw a covetous look at Jaune's hunter's jacket.

"Forget the cold, it's wet," Lark groused. He too threw a covetous look at Jaune's hunter's jacket- not only long sleeved and warm, but blessedly water-resistant so that the rain dribbled off and slid over, rather than being absorbed. "How are we supposed to sleep when it's raining?" he asked.

Experience, Jaune wanted to say, but didn't. It was true - if you got so tired you'd pass out in the rain, after a while you wouldn't mind it so much, but it wouldn't help them.

"Dry socks," he said instead. "If you can keep your feet dry up on a root, out of puddles, then dry socks make everything else better. Put 'em on before you go to sleep, and you'll wake up without pruned feet. Put 'em on after a long walk, and your feet will thank you for not swimming in sweat. Dry socks are one of the three secrets to happiness in life out here," Jaune claimed.

"What are the other two?" Lark wanted to know.

Jaune gave an enigmatic smile. "If I told, they wouldn't be secrets," he said, earning at least one chuckle.

But not from everyone. "Well, call that another thing to pack next time we're out here," Russel groused. "Right after a jacket."

Russell nodded. "And a blanket. How do nomads stand it out here? Forget the Grimm, how can they sleep at night? How do they even live?"

Experience, Jaune wanted to say again. When the wilds was your life, you either made do, or you died. Simple. After a point your body got so tired it wouldn't care about comfort, and then you could find comfort in the smallest of things. But he didn't say that, because he didn't want to distract from Russel's topic direction. They were bitching about being miserable, sure… but like Uncle said, men who have time and energy to bitch about it aren't that miserable. It's when they were quiet - so Grimm-shocked that they had too much fear to care about minor pleasantries – that's when it was bad.

This was better. So, of course, it would end.

"They don't," Cardin claimed, speaking up. "Everyone knows the nomads are a dying breed. Just like villages on the frontier, they're constantly getting wiped out by Grimm. Everyone smart enough to know better comes to the Kingdoms to live. Anyone too dumb to do that gets overwhelmed by the Grimm."

"Except us, right? Hahaha…" Russell laughed weakly.

Jaune narrowed his eyes slightly, and not just at the slight against everyone who lived on the frontier. Cardin was ruining things… again. He'd have to provide (another) distraction. But thanks to Cardin, he knew which one to use.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Jaune hedged. "Some of the clans have been around longer than the Kingdoms," he claimed, "and a lot of villages simply pick up and move rather than be overrun. Edge is the third place I've lived, and that's not even including the time I've spent in the Wildlands."

"See what I mean?" Cardin said to his team, urging a laugh. "Too dumb to live in the Kingdoms."

More like smart enough not to live with those-

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Jaune said, a cool smile in his eyes as if seeing a joke they had yet to recognize. "Hiding from Grimm behind massive walls might be safer, but it doesn't require brains. Not like living off your wits and outsmarting the Grimm out here. Tell me… have you ever heard the Legend of the Moon Ursa?" he asked.

It was clear none of them had. Three of them leaned in, fear forgotten for the moment, and even Cardin looked interested as Jaune began his tale. Perfect. Tales around a campfire, or well, a muddy and cold wallow, would serve to raise spirits where reality couldn't. That was what such folk tales were for, after all. Well, that and to teach valuable lessons.

"Once upon a time there was an Ursa of unusual strength and ferocity. The beast's eyes were red gems in the night, while its arms were said to be so great they could crush several trees in one swing. Worse, this Grimm proved to be quite the territorial one, which allowed it to feast and grow in secret long before anyone knew of its existence." Jaune paused to gauge their reactions, and smiled when not one of them interrupted. "It terrorised the Wildlands to the west, destroying village after village until all that remained was a desolate wasteland. There, the Ursa declared its territory, hunting and killing any human who dared approach. The monster grew and grew, glutting itself on those who fell until it was as tall as a small mountain. With valuable food and supplies trapped on the other side, the people of the frontier were desperate."

"Why didn't they call for Huntsmen?" Russel asked, intrigued.

"They did," he replied, not missing a beat. "First, they called for a single Huntsman – a man of great strength and reputation, who wielded a mighty spear that was said to be capable of piercing the stars themselves. The Huntsman listened to the villagers, but refused to heed their warnings about the Ursa's territory. He rushed off to face it, stepping into its land and shouting out for the beast to face him."

"Did he kill it?"

"It wouldn't be much of a story if he did," Cardin grunted. "I'm taking it he died."

Jaune nodded. "The Huntsman tried to match his strength to the Ursa's, but despite being one of the strongest around, he wasn't able to overpower the monster. He lodged his spear into its back, but it managed to snap it in two and then catch the Huntsman in a bearhug. He was crushed to death, his back broken in two."

The Huntsmen before him winced.

"So, the villagers did the only thing they could and sent out for another Huntsman. Except this time, it was a Huntress who answered. Graceful and lithe, she was well-known for speed and skill capable of outrunning even the fastest Nevermore. Death by a thousand cuts was what she promised, and two thin daggers would be the tools. She was more cautious than the Huntsman, listening to tales of the beast, and considering why the previous Huntsman had fallen. Only when she was ready did she step out in search of the Moon Ursa."

"She found him prowling in the middle of the night," he continued, "The Huntress fell upon him and the battle was fierce. She landed blow after blow, forever using her incredible speed and agility to escape. For the longest time, it looked like victory might be hers – and it's said that she cut the monster over nine-hundred times, enough to have its blood spilling across its skin. Unfortunately, she was caught before she could land the one-thousandth strike, trapped against the side of a mountain as the huge Grimm spread its arms wide and fell down upon her. She tried to use her speed to escape, but she sheer size of the monster proved too much. She was crushed under its incredible weight."

In the pause that followed, Jaune let his eyes stray over each of them. They all looked interested enough, but Cardin had his arms crossed over his chest and was still mostly focused on keeping watch. Seeing their interest, Jaune took a quick sip of water and pushed on.

"For months, more and more Huntsmen came to try and slay the Moon Ursa. Those who were strong, fast, and even groups who boasted some of the greatest teamwork known in Vale. They all came, and they all fell, chipping away at the monster. Ultimately, the death toll rose, and the Kingdom decided the Ursa was too much a threat to deal with. So long as it remained on the frontier, it would be allowed to exist. And should it come closer to Vale, a more concerted effort to kill it would be mounted."

"And that's the end of the tale?" Dove asked. "Lame."

"For Vale, perhaps, but not for the villagers. While the decision would spare Huntsmen lives, it wouldn't do much for the people trapped on the Ursa's borders, especially not if it decided to expand them, or hunt the innocents nearby. Worse still, some of the best hunting grounds were in its land. As you may know, Grimm do not kill or hunt animals, which means where the Grimm claim, wildlife is allowed to flourish. The biggest and strongest deer are in its territory, and people need to eat. Medicinal plants, too, not to mention all the land on the other side – which the people needed access to. The Ursa's land had to be crossed. They needed a plan."

"So, what? What did they do?"

"The villagers knew that they would not be able to defeat the Moon Ursa," Jaune said. "Huntsmen and Huntresses had failed to do just that, but the people were hardy and knew the land. They had lived here for many years. They came up with a plan to trick the beast, not with a view to killing it, but to avoid it. A great pyre was lit on one end of its territory, and when the Ursa wandered off to investigate, teams of hunters and gatherers would farm the land, or people would pass through – retreating once a horn sounded the Moon Ursa's return. This continued for several years, and a strange peace was struck. If the Moon Ursa could be avoided, then there was no need to kill it. While they could not live in peace together, the two sides could at least avoid one another."

"So, they just left the Grimm loose? Sounds like a bad idea."

"Oh, it was," he agreed. "It didn't seem it at first, but the Grimm began to learn that the pyre would yield no prey, and worse, the people had become complacent, with one person often lighting the pyre themselves and then looping around to hunt in its land. They believed the huge beast's footfalls would be warning enough of its return. A young and foolish hunter from a local village was the one who learned of their mistake. He lit the pyre, fed the flames, and then travelled to the opposite end of its territory and listened. When no loud noises could be heard, the hunter believed himself safe and started to hunt deer under the moonlight. He brought down a doe and was making ready to transport it when something changed. When the world went dark." Jaune leaned forward. "The Moon Ursa had eaten the moon."

"Bullshit!" Sky cried, miming as though to throw something at him. "Damn thing's still up there right now, and don't you dare tell me it's like that because some Ursa took a bite out of it."

Jaune chuckled and shook his head. "Tales and legends like to exaggerate at times," he admitted. "As the tale goes, it ate the moon, but the truth is that it was just so large it blocked it from the hunter – casting the world around him into darkness." He waited for the others to chuckle and shake their heads. "Even so, the situation was dire, and the hunter was neither as strong as the Huntsman, nor as fast as the Huntress. He fled as best he could, but the Ursa had a long stride, and even a slow walk was enough to keep pace. Knowing he would be doomed, and knowing the Moon Ursa would follow him back to his village if he didn't lose him, the hunter ducked into a small cave, one that was still within the monster's territory. For two nights and one day he stayed there, licking water from the cave walls and eating what little supplies he had. The Ursa, tireless and sleepless, prowled outside, waiting for its pretty to exit – or to starve."

"And did he?" Russel asked. "Most Grimm don't need to rest, but I'm guessing this thing was too big to fit in the cave."

"Huntsman protocol says to call and wait for reinforcements," Dove added. "If you can't kill it yourself, that is."

"Well, this hunter had no reinforcements," Jaune interrupted, "and no way to call for more, if they would even come. He had only himself, his bow, three arrows and what supplies he carried on his back. What he did have, however, was his knowledge of the Wildlands, and how to survive in them. He knew that rain was coming, from both the scent in the air and the sound of the wind. In preparation for this, he brought what little wood he had from his pack and began to build a big fire at the mouth of the cave – just far enough in as to be safe from the Ursa's paws."

"When the rain came, it was a downpour, the beginning of the monsoon season, much like now. It came down mercilessly, and coated the air with moisture. The hunter's fire started, but with the wood damp, it produced a vast amount of smoke – enough to hide within. His plan was to sneak out under the cover of the billowing smoke, and then to slip away in the rain, using the noise to cover his as he returned to safety."

"Hm." Cardin grunted, but didn't interrupt.

"The plan went flawlessly, at least for a while. The fire burned and the smoke began to billow, being fanned out of the entrance by the hunter. Sadly, the Moon Ursa noticed, and started to claw and pace at the entrance. Even if it did not understand, it sensed activity, and was mindless in its desire to kill the little hunter. It could not see, however." Jaune made a gesture to his eyes, and then to the world around them. "The smoke made its eyes sting and water, and prevented it from getting any view of the hunter within the cave. Perhaps fearing its prey might escape, or simply showing its instincts, the Ursa got down onto its knees and paws, pushing its snout and face into the cave."

"It was then that the hunter struck!" Jaune slapped his hand against a wooden log, making the Huntsmen jump. "Knowing it was his only choice, the hunter had picked up a piece of burning wood, and slashed it at the Moon Ursa's giant eye. The eyeball exploded, and the wound sealed shut, while the Ursa tore back its face and roared in pain and fury. The hunter, seeing his chance, fled out of the cave, chased by its agonised cries."

Jaune leaned back, smiling. "Ever since, the Moon Ursa's lands have remained unchallenged, and it is said the monster cries out even now, seeking its vengeance against the only one who truly wounded it."

There was a long moment of silence after the tale had ended, one in which he waited for their comments. He wasn't disappointed, at least by their enthusiasm. The content, however? Well, he ought to have guessed.

"Lame!" Russel sounded. "What a weak story!"

"What kind of legend doesn't end with the Grimm dead and the Huntsmen saving the village?" Lark asked. "He could have at least gone back and called some Huntsmen, or gathered the village and killed it himself. Fah, some legend."

"It's to teach a valuable lesson," Jaune offered.

Cardin interrupted him, "Yeah, that you should avoid Grimm." The sarcasm was thick. "Valuable lesson."

Jaune opened his mouth to argue, to explain that the lesson was one on intelligence, on how a normal person could protect themselves given a plan, some basic knowledge and a little bit of luck. In the end, however, he didn't bother. He shook his head and laid back, watching as the four Huntsmen banded together to critique and laugh at the tale, at the idea of this Moon Ursa, and how they'd go about slaying it. They might have missed the point, but at least they weren't quite so glum anymore.

That was one thing, he supposed. He just hoped it would last.

* * *

 **C.F. Notes**

 **Howdy, C.F. here, for another chapter's worth of notes.**

 **We're finally in the wilds, still in the prologue, but most importantly still in the portion I initially wrote out. People familiar with me know I plan more scene-by-scene than Coeur's continuous chapters, and that format difference shows here. We actually struggled to identify the best place to end the chapter this time, needing to balance chapter length for this versus next chapter's. Things that would work with fast micro-updates don't always work as well as Coeur novel chapters. Fortunately, this should be the last before Coeur has more freedom on flow now that we're past the set-up.**

 **Our first look at the wilds doesn't actually focus as much on the wilds as we'd like, but again we were pushing for progress here. Considering how this story was conceived, we'll definitely take a deeper focus on the great outdoors later. This is more of a chapter to start dipping our feet into some other aspects of the world other than 'Jaune has issues.' Which, surprisingly, don't seem to dominate when Team CRDL is involved in the wilds- which may itself tell you something about Jaune's earlier encounters.**

 **Speaking of Jaune's story, though, our cliff hanger this chapter is setting up what I hope to be one of the funner parts of this story- Legends. Legends are, well, legends, stories within this story. They'll be our own look at building the world of RWBY from a occasionally referenced but rarely used viewpoint- the idea of the stories Remnant tells itself. Such stories have a special place in Hunter or Something, and will hopefully be fun to do along the way. We have some in mind already, but others remain blank slates, and who knows? If some of you write some suitable legends, we might crib some ideas with hats off to you. At the very least, the RWBY fandom could use some 'legends of remnant' fanfiction, don't you think? Work on some of that community fanon.**

 **Finally, an invitation/challenge to all of Coeur's fans- I double dare you to work on all the tropes you can for Coeur's stories at the site tvtropes. For those not aware, tvtropes is a wiki site that looks at the various tropes (tricks and patterns) that are used in fiction, big and small. Besides being a way to waste hours of your life, it's also a way to learn the sort of things you like (or are tired of seeing) in your stories. Great experience, and even a good thing for the likes of Coeur to look back on after the fact.**

 **(Plus, it'll be fun to see how the trope list for a story like this might grow and evolve over time. As a certain man once said- Do it! Just do it!)**

 **Cheers,**

 **C.F.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 21** **st** **October**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	4. Chapter 4

**General Notes: Welcome to another edition of Hunter or Something. Or as we sometimes call it, HoS. This chapter is both longer and shorter than intended. Longer because Dos New Ideas, and shorter because... spoiler! Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

"Wow, it sure is coming down out there," Ruby said, pulling her head back into the cave from which it had been peeking out. Though she'd had her hood up when she looked out, saving her hair from the worst, lowering it only let more water drip on the damp cloak. "We're lucky we stopped for a break when we did." Despite that luck, she didn't sound very happy.

"Tell me about it," Yang agreed, sitting beside the small fire they'd dared to start in the cave. "The humidity later on is going to be bad enough. My hair doesn't need the rain. Or mud." She took a pause from checking her weapons to sniff at some of her tangled locks.

"Well, it _is_ monsoon season," Kalie pointed out. There was hint of humour in her voice, but only a hint as she sat at the back of the cave and watched the entrance warily. "On this side of the Barrier Mountains, when it rains, it pours. It'll probably keep up for days. How are you all holding up?"

They were good, all things considered, though good didn't mean great or in high spirits. Ruby seemed to mind things the least, maybe because she'd had her hood up when it was still just a sprinkle. Her quietness was for other reasons. Others showed more signs of the wilderness, and the weariness with it. Yang blew some hair out of her eyes as she tried to focus on Ember Celica, and a leaf fell out. Blake was worse, with nicks and tears and worst of all, brambles, stuck to her clothes and leggings. The brush here was thicker than the stuff around Vale, and despite their attempts to avoid the worst of it they hadn't had much choice when their guide chose to slip through.

It was Weiss, though, who bore the worst of it, and not by a small margin. It wasn't just the damp or dirt dirtying her typical white attire, it was the way Weiss had taken off her shoes and was rubbing her calves and ankles from the spot she'd taken a seat on. She noticed their looks, and an expression of discomfort was replaced with aggravation.

"I'm fine," she said, though that didn't mean unbothered. "I fight in heels all the time. It's just that Beacon and Vale are usually… flatter," she explained. "And quicker. Walking on hillsides all day is just a bit harder. I'm fine, though. Nothing some pain-killers won't help with when we get back."

Yang was happy to accept that, and was honestly impressed Weiss hadn't complained as much already. Well, aside from the occasional branch coming back at her. After getting her foot caught in a vine herself, Yang wasn't inclined to give her any grief about it. Aura or no, some things just hurt if you weren't expecting them.

Still, the thought sparked something in Yang, especially as she felt Blake looking at her. A little feeling in her gut suggested why. "Well, maybe you can get a bottle at the store back at Edge," she suggested. "Hey, Kalie, your boyfriend works there, right?" she asked, noticing Blake flinch a little as she did so. Huh, weird. "How much does a bottle of pain-relief cost?"

Kalie, alerted a bit when her name was called, looked away from the cave entrance. "A bottle of drink or a bottle of pills?" she asked, just to be sure. "Pills cost a few thousand lien."

That startled Yang. "A- A few thousand?!" she sputtered, surprised. "It's maybe a few hundred, tops, in Vale!" Even less at Beacon, where aches and pains from combat training were a constant and the school made it affordable to students.

Their guide didn't seem surprise, or perturbed. "That's where they make it, yeah?" she asked. "Makes sense it'd be cheaper than out here."

"That's still weeks of pay, though," Blake said though a bit of her usual passion was absent. Yang didn't need aura to tell her that yellow eyes were on her, and felt more squirming in her stomach.

"At least we have it now," Kalie said, missing any awkwardness. "Even when the roads are open, other villages would usually buy up merchant stock before they could get this far out. That or bandits would steal medicine for themselves. Now that SDC flies supplies in, it's always in stock when we need it." She gave a genuine smile towards Weiss. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Erm, yes… you're welcome." Weiss sounded about as comfortable accepting the gratitude as Yang did for raising the subject in the first place. Then again, Kalie had been especially polite to Weiss since they were introduced. Was that just something country-girls did when seeing someone with as much class as Weiss tried to convey? Or was it because the boyfriend of one was an employee for the other? Yang doubted either answer suited Weiss, since the heiress glanced away. "I just hope we don't need any of it once we find Ren."

A silence fell over the group as the unspoken was spoken at last. The unhappy feeling in Yang's stomach churned more at the reminder. Suddenly the rain outside didn't seem so bad. Suddenly she wanted to go out there and press on, rain and night or not. To do something, anything, rather than to just wait here in a cave. It was an uncomfortable itch, the same she'd had - they'd all had - since hearing about Ren's accident. It'd been hard enough this morning when she hadn't been able to just stay in her room and wait. That's why she'd gone out looking for things to do in the first place, just like Blake and Weiss. Now…?

Now, she wasn't the only one finding the cave claustrophobic.

"It won't do anyone any good if we go out there unprepared," Blake murmured, reading her thoughts. "Ren's counting on us to do this right. JNPR is counting on us to bring him back safe. If he's survived this long, he can last another night." Despite her words, though, she didn't sound eager to wait either, rain or no.

Yang gave her partner a shaky smile. She didn't necessarily like waiting, and liked that conditional 'if' even less, but Blake wasn't wrong. They just had to hold out hope that Ren was alright. Dad used to say at Signal that hope was a Huntsman's most powerful weapon in the wilds.

"I wonder how the boys are doing," Ruby said from the side. She'd been the quietest out of them all for most of the day, really, though she'd perked up once they started moving. But now, she too was looking out towards the cave entrance, though not nearly as warily as Kalie was. "I hope they're alright."

Yang wasn't sure she agreed, even if she didn't quite wish them ill. Her blood still burned whenever she saw Cardin, but that was supposed to be in the past. It didn't keep her from relishing, just a bit, the thought of CRDL and the jerk being stuck together. There was a certain sort of irony about that. But even if Yang didn't worry about them, Ruby apparently was, and being that sort of person was why Yang loved her sister.

"I'm sure they're safe, Ruby," Yang said, not even lying. CRDL weren't pushovers, and no one had set half the forest on fire in retreat. "They're probably hunkered down in a cave, same as we are."

Everyone was surprised when Kalie laughed, surprisingly sincere. "I wouldn't be surprised if Jaune was making them rough it out under some trees even now," she said, mirth evident. "That sounds like the sort of thing he would do."

"What? Why would he do that?" Yang asked, incredulous, even the image appealed to her. "It's raining cats and dogs out there."

Kalie squirmed a little, her smile fading. "Well, you know." She shrugged uncomfortably, and Yang had the feeling it was more to do with his beef with them - `Real Huntresses` as he called them - but it wasn't. "Grimm don't like the rain either, and there are only so many places they can go to get out of it. During the rainy season, more hunters die in caves than outdoors. Jaune used to say that the scariest Grimm was the one between you and escape. At least outside you're surrounded, not trapped." A shiver visibly went through her despite her proximity to the fire, and she rubbed her arms even as she nervously looked at the cave mouth again. "I know what he means."

The other girls traded a look as the mood dropped again. It wasn't lost to them that Kalie was sitting the furthest away from the entrance, and with her bow the closest at hand. Yang, who was closest to her, reached out to slap a hand on her shoulder- hard enough to make a loud noise.

"Well, I say we got the best guide for knowing when to rest! After all, we'll need to stay sharp if we're going to rescue Ren before the boys, right?" she asked with a warm smile she didn't necessarily believe. Trying to keep her mind off that was why she'd wanted a drink so early in the first place. "Besides, we're here! You saw us clear out this cave easy enough, right? We can cover the watch."

There was - if you looked just right - only the smallest of signs of battle in the cave. A few stray rounds. Claw marks on the wall. The ash had blown away, and the only sign of the cave's previous inhabitants were a few droppings that had been awkwardly pushed to the side.

Kalie seemed to accept that, or at least pretended she did. "Yeah, you're right. Could be worse, right? There could be more Grimm further in," she suggested with a thin laugh. "Besides, dry socks!"

"I think I'd prefer fish, but I'll just settle for not being out in the cats and dogs as Yang puts it," Blake said. "Or having a cat or dog in here after being out there." Her nose twitched. "Edge was bad enough, smelling like wet dog everywhere. I wouldn't want one in here."

"I would," Kalie disagreed almost immediately, mood rising. "Dogs make great guards against Grimm, especially since they usually don't bother killing animals. Edge uses them as Grimm alarms, but hunting dogs…" Kalie had a mixed, almost wistful expression on her face. "A hunting dog is more than man's best friend; it's a partner, really. They don't just help you hunt; they can keep you sane and keep watch against the Grimm. They're our only friends out here this close to the Grimmlands. It takes a lifetime to train one, and I know some people who would pay a fortune for the chance. I used to have a dog when I was younger, but…" Kalie trailed off miserably, but then paused when she realized the girls were looking at her. "What? What is it?"

It was Blake who responded first, shaking herself out of a stupor. Eyes that might have been a bit wider were now narrowed with understanding. "It's nothing. Something just… makes sense, I guess."

Kalie was visibly confused, before her eyes started to widen to. "Wait - don't tell me. Did she-"

"I have a hunting dog too!" Ruby interrupted, speaking a bit too fast at first. "Well, maybe not a hunting dog - maybe a Huntsman dog - but he does all that too, even if he's just a corgi. His name is Zwei."

"Zwei?" Kalie echoed, looking at Yang was a certain expression. "Like-"

"Yeah!" Ruby interjected again, nodding rapidly. "I know, right? I wish you could meet him. He's so small and cute! I thought about mailing him but we didn't have the time, and there were, uh, 'reasons' to leave him back. But he's the best boy, really, and he even gets to help in fights because he has his aura unlocked."

There was a pause as the other members of Team RWBY watched the young civilian hunter be bowled over by the force that was Ruby Rose. The fact that Ruby was so odd - and yet so sincere - seemed to be working, and the lingering unease looked to have faded for the moment.

Still, Kalie paused, though this was a different sort. "Aura," Kalie repeated, as if testing a memory. "Isn't that - isn't that against the rules if you're not a Huntress?" she asked.

Yang and Ruby exchanged looks. "Nothing on the books against pets with aura," Yang said with a shrug.

"Huh," Kalie said, and sounded introspective.

The conversation tapered off, silent except for the rain. Even though they were dry and almost comfortable, even though they were safe, Yang couldn't help but feel the itch of unwanted idleness as the rain came down. It was bad enough imagining CRDL still roughing it out without her mind drifting to Ren, alone and probably injured. It just didn't sit right with her.

It was clear she wasn't the only one it bothered. As Yang finished putting Ember Celica back together, Weiss put on her shoes, and Blake stopped picking things out of her stockings and rose to her feet. The air in the cavern changed, just a bit, but Kalie was the last to notice it as the Huntresses stood.

"What are ya'll…?"

"Well, it's not like we're going to get any sleep here anyway," Yang said, offering a smile. "Rubes, think we can keep going?"

Ruby lit up, just a little. "Ahuh," she nodded before turning to Kalie. "You can keep up with us, right?"

"Now!? At night?" Kalie bit her lip as a bit of hesitance flickered over her. "Probably, but isn't it a bit too dark for you?" she asked. "Even if the rain lets up, cloudy nights are no joke. Even if the Grimm don't see you, it's no good if you fall down a hill in the dark and break your legs."

Team RWBY traded looks, and smiles, at an inner joke of their own. A while ago, that might have been enough to deter them. Now, though…

"Don't worry," Ruby assured, even as Blake braced herself to step out and take the lead into the night. "We have a secret weapon."

"You mean Blake's faunus night-vision?"

There was a sudden pause, and a stumble, as Team RWBY startled and turned back to their guide.

"You… knew?" Weiss asked, honestly surprised.

Kalie cocked her head to the side, green bandana keeping hair out of her eyes. "Was I not supposed to?" she asked, sounding confused. "I mean, I didn't early on. I thought she was one of those cosplaying perverts from the city-"

"Excuse me!?"

"Don't mind her. She thinks we still don't know about her book collection," Yang said with a smirk, ignoring Blake's subsequent squawk.

"But no one seemed to care, and she didn't seem to be doing it for anyone," Kalie went on. "Then we got here, and you sent her in to check the cave first even though it was dark inside…" she trailed off, and then paused. "Plus, there was the feline grace and that stuff about wanting fish and not liking dogs." She paused again, taking in the awkward silence from the girls. "Um, was I wrong? Is it-" she paused, and eyes widened. "Oh my god, are you some other kind of faunus? Maybe a sloth? I'm so sorry, I just assumed-"

Kalie's panicked words were cancelled out by Yang's laughter, but it was Weiss's cough that broke through.

"Ahem. Yes. You are quite correct. Good job," Weiss praised, before turning to the side. "What is it about country people…?" The aside finished, she looked back at Kalie. "Still, with Blake on our side, the night won't be much of a problem."

That didn't seem to reassure Kalie. "Maybe not, but it's not just that." Kalie insisted. "This isn't a good idea. It's not safe. The Grimm-"

"Are all in shelter like you said, right?" Yang smirked and cocked one arm, revealing Ember Celica. "And even if they aren't, you saw us fight. You know we can look after ourselves."

"We can look after you too," Ruby said. "If that's what you're worried about. We're strong. I promise."

Kalie looked between the two of them, clearly still a little reluctant, but Yang could see it fading from her eyes – the confidence coming back. Probably confidence born of the fact they were there to protect her. After all, her job was to be the guide. Theirs was to be the muscle. When it came to dealing with Grimm, there were few people better.

Kalie gave up with a nervous smile. "If you say so. You're the Huntresses, right?"

"Yeah!" Ruby cheered. "That's the spirit!"

The moment of cheer led to Ruby smiling, which made Yang smile more. Laughter aside, it felt good to be making progress or at least to be going back to making progress. The rain would suck, and the forest would be murder for her hair, but some sacrifices had to be made if they were to do the right thing. And, with any luck, rescue Ren before CRDL.

Her own good humour lasting at least until she stepped back into the rain, she idly wondered if Team CRDL were having as good a time as they were.

/-/

It was inevitable that the chatter about the legend he'd told them wouldn't last. The members of Team CRDL seemed to have fun discussing how they'd fight a giant Ursa, but sooner or later it drifted off as the weather got worse. Eventually, Cardin came and found Jaune outside the camp. His expression was stern, his eyes narrowed. "Let's talk," the bigger boy suggested in a tone that suggested it wasn't really a suggestion at all.

Jaune nodded. "Okay, but not here. Follow me as I check the perimeter." It might be best to get this out in the open now, but that didn't mean he intended to give Cardin his undivided attention, or let him undermine what he'd accomplished with the telling of that legend. He'd known something was coming, of course. Cardin wasn't exactly subtle. He'd been able to realise that much in the short amount of time they'd spent together.

Cardin glowered more, but followed Jaune as he checked the perimeter. Watched as he tapped the trip lines he'd made (none of them broken - good), held his words as Jaune strained to hear anything in the Brush (nothing, but that wasn't so good). Once they made their circuit - once they could see that the other members of Team CRDL were lightly dozing despite themselves and despite the rain - only then did they have words a day coming.

"I take it you didn't like my story," Jaune guessed, leading off before Cardin could.

"Outsmarting a Grimm is pointless," Cardin said. "No Grimm can outsmart a human. A faunus, maybe, but Grimm are just dumb beasts."

Jaune gave him a sceptical eye. "That just tells me you don't know much about beasts. Animals aren't smart either, but they can be clever. Any real hunter would know that."

Cardin flushed. "They might not be smart enough to read between the lines, but I know an insult when I hear one."

"Animals or your team?" Jaune needled. He sighed, thinking better of the insult a second later. "Look, I never said you were stupid, but if you thought that tale was all about you, you missed the point."

"That us Huntsmen are useless and stupid, and your frontier hunters are the true heroes. That sound about right?" Cardin asked. "Yeah, real subtle there. I don't appreciate being mocked. I know about your issue with Huntsmen."

Jaune didn't rise to the bait. "I doubt it, but whatever. That legend wasn't about Huntsmen. Not really. It was about people who don't respect nature. City people, really, who think they can just power through every problem out here, and don't know enough to care otherwise. Don't care enough to look for other ways of doing things." He looked Cardin straight in the eye. "Do you know why so many towns and nomad caravans die out here?" he asked Cardin.

"Grimm," Cardin answered instantly. Everyone knew that.

"It's because they're stupid," Jaune countered with brutal frankness. "It's because they're amateurs, city folk fresh out of the Kingdoms who don't know a damn thing about life out here. Settlers, refugees, outcasts - people who don't want, or aren't wanted by, the Kingdoms, but don't know enough to survive outside of them. Grimm are a part of it, sure, but only a part. Starvation, disease, and building a house that collapses on you in the winter play bigger parts. Real frontier folk - men and women who know what's what - we don't die out like that. We pick up and move. We evacuate towns before Grimm can mass and overrun us. A caravan knows how to scout ahead and avoid Grimm nests, knows when to circle the wagons and when to break our fast. We live out here, and we're still alive after decades of doing it, and not just because more people can't stand the cities every year and try to get away from you. You lot seem to think settlements disappear every year – and they do – but that doesn't mean we've died. It means we've packed up and moved before the Grimm can kill us. That's not failure on our part. It's success. It's survival."

Cardin flushed, and part of Jaune knew he was just egging it on, but he didn't care. Part of him wanted to frustrate the Huntsman, to return the favour for a day filled with subtle slights and blatant bullying. The rain was doing his mood no favours.

"Those city folk don't know how to survive out here," Jaune continued, and worse than scorn was the pity. "You come out here with your training and ideas of how things should work and think you can conquer the Wildlands – make nature work the way you want it to. And you fail, and people die, and eventually the survivors have the experience to know better than to think they can stand against the Grim."

Cardin gripped his hands into balls, a distant crack of lightning and roll of thunder fitting the mood. "No wonder you wouldn't shoot. You're too scared to take the fight to them."

Jaune didn't even disagree. "They're stronger than we are. There's more of them. That's just a fact. And when you're faced with something stronger than you, to fight is to die. So, you don't. You bide your time and hide, and those who survive can rebuild. It's sad, but it's going to happen regardless. Our way keeps everyone alive, and it's not like you actually win anything for killing Grimm. They vanish when they're killed, so no meat, bone or fur. Why fight what you can avoid?"

"Because this is _our_ world," Cardin retorted angrily. "This is our territory. We rule here."

"Is that why you call it the Grimmlands?" Jaune asked rhetorically. "Kingdom territory ends at the walls. The Grimm are a force of nature. If you want to survive out here, you have to respect that. You treat it with the caution it deserves. You don't have to like it, but you don't fight it like it's some kind of war to be won. You don't 'fight' Grimm, any more than you fight fire."

"Fucking ignorant hicks," Cardin muttered. "Figures you'd be an even dumber blonde than your sister."

"What was that?"

Cardin laughed. It wasn't a merry sound. "You know nothing, Jaune Arc," he said. "Not about strength, not about survival and definitely not about nature. You're afraid of fire? In the Kingdoms we fight fires - and we win. We put them out. We don't cower from nature, we conquer it! We build dams and make walls and master our surroundings, make them work for us. That's why we don't just survive, but thrive. That's why more people live within the kingdoms than without. That's why more people _want_ to live within the kingdoms than without."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "So that you can cower behind your walls and claim mastery over a world you can barely take a stroll through?" he snapped derisively as thunder echoed in the distance. "Impressive."

"We make strength," Cardin countered. "Strong walls, stronger armies, and the strongest heroes. There's no Grimm force we can't take." He stood proud - too proud - and looked down on Jaune at the same time. "Your sister was a rube, but even she knew where to go for real power. We stand against the Grimm, and history will remember that the Kingdoms never backed down. Legends will remember _us_ ," he sneered. "Not the ones who hid like cowards… or ran and left family behind, _brother_ ," Cardin mimicked a feminine tone.

Jaune snarled as lighting flashed, nearly roared before the thunder that followed. That bastard - no, that _bitch_ -

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go._

The mantra came without him really meaning it to, instinctive as it always was. The familiar words echoed, a calming whisper in his ears, and for a moment he wasn't soaked and cold and furious in the Grimm Lands, but safe and surrounded by warmth and calm as always.

Jaune touched the bandana on his arm, remembered comforting hands, and let loose the breath. The breath, the desired scream of rage, the hate that had wanted to break free… it was simply gone, released in a safe way. Cardin watched, no doubt seeing it as some sort of submission to his point, but when Jaune looked back at him it was without passion.

"You," Jaune said coolly, staring at Cardin through the rain, "are everything I hate about Hunters."

"Oh?" Cardin asked without a hint of apology, the rain bouncing off his unyielding features, all but challenging Jaune to rant and rail and insult him.

Jaune didn't. "You think you know what you're talking about, but you don't," he informed. "Not about me and certainly not about the Wildlands. I don't know what your problem with me is, and I don't know what your problem in general is, but I don't care, Cardin. If you're done venting, I'm done with you."

"You're giving up?" Cardin asked, contemptuous.

"If that makes you feel better," Jaune said. "Build a wall and claim you've conquered me if it helps, but it's more that I don't see a point in continuing. I've been asked to help you find and save your friend. I'm going to do that," he said, looking Cardin in the eye. "Educating you isn't on the list."

"He's not my friend," Cardin bluntly reminded.

"I don't care. He's not _my_ friend either," Jaune returned, equally blunt. "I lost mine a while ago, but I'm still going to help save yours. That'll be easier if you finish venting and stop attracting Grimm."

Cardin stilled at a thunder clap. "You think I'm attracting Grimm?"

"You have aura. You're in the Wildlands. You're wet, cold, tired and afraid. _Of course_ you're attracting Grimm," Jaune said, as if explaining something to a small child. "Don't they teach you Hunters anything? They can smell fear, especially that of your kind."

"You think I'm afraid?" Cardin demanded. He rose a little taller, eyes flashing.

"Your entire team is afraid," he said, trying for a more diplomatic approach. "You're in the Wildlands for the first time in your life, alone and far from help. It's wet and miserable. It's natural. You're just the only one I couldn't distract with a story. That's why I agreed to have this little talk."

Cardin gripped his hands again. "You looking down on me? Humouring me? And how is making me this pissed going help?" he demanded, rage building.

"I don't like you," Jaune understated, "but I don't hate you. Venting is better than letting it fester. Holding your negative emotions just draws the Grimm in faster. Let it go, and they won't come after you."

"Or maybe they'll come faster," Cardin countered-claimed. Thunder crashed again, rain fell. "But that doesn't mean I'm afraid!"

Jaune only looked at him impassively, ran dripping off him in wordless silent scepticism.

Cardin clenched his fist again. "I'm not!" he protested. "Not again. Never again!" Memories flashed behind his eyes. "If she could do it, so can I. I am not a coward! I will not run! Let them come!"

A Nevermore screamed in the distance. A bestial roar followed.

And then another.

And another.

Jaune closed his eyes, took a breath, and let it go. "Looks like you'll get your wish," he said, sounding detached. "They know we're here now." It wasn't an accusation, only a statement of fact.

Cardin was shaking, but an excited smile on his lips suggested adrenaline was as much responsible as anything else.

"Team Cardinal! Assemble!" he roared, rousing his team with a formidable spirit. Watching as his team stumbled up, grabbing their weapons and falling into well-practiced formation, Cardin stood tall, pride and anticipation building.

"We'll defeat the Grimm, make this area safe of them, and accomplish our mission," he predicted. "I'll show you the power of the Kingdoms, and of Hunters," Cardin vowed.

Jaune didn't respond. When Cardin turned to see why not.

He was no longer there.

/-/

"This is harder than I thought it would be. Crescent Rose wasn't exactly designed for this," Ruby complained, cutting through another wall of vines and foliage before them. The scythe's blade made short work of it, but the haft caught on more, requiring her to force all her strength into pulling it free. It was like the plants themselves were trying to drag her down.

"Well you're still the best bet," Weiss shot back. "It's not like Myrtenaster can cut through them, and Yang's as good as useless."

"Hey!"

"Figuratively speaking, I mean." Weiss rolled her eyes. "At least Gambol Shroud is working out."

"Only as much as my arms," Blake said, hacking through another thicket of thorns. Even if there hadn't been rain, sweat would have dampened her brow regardless. They were trained Huntresses with stamina far above what most people could boast, but they were made for short intense fights. Not late-night bush-whacking. "Are we sure we're going the right way? Can't we go around this?"

"We're following the signal from your friend's scroll," Kalie said, looking at the scroll she'd been given and comparing it to a map she had in her other hand. "According to this, his beacon is probably a few ridgelines that way. The valleys here aren't deep, but they are long, and walking around them would take all night." She looked up, and really did look apologetic. "Sorry, but the best way is directly through the valley floors, even if that means brush from streams. If it were daylight I could look for the thinner parts to break through, but..."

"Blake?" Ruby asked, hopefully.

Blake shook her head. "I can see in the dark, but I can't see through solid objects. All I see are plants, plants, and more plants. I can't tell what's thickest," she sighed, before making another hack.

"Maybe we'd better stop now anyways," Kalie suggested, trying to not sound too eager at the prospect. "At least until it's light enough to see."

"No. We're not giving up on Ren," Ruby decided, making another hack that inevitably got caught. "We will save him tonight. We're not going to give up because of a bit of brush!"

Yang knew there was no arguing with Ruby when her mind was made up like that, but then sometimes you didn't have to. "Hey, Ruby, remember that story Kalie told us earlier? The one about the Moon Ursa?" Kalie had told them it when they'd started chopping through, once it'd become clear of just how slow their progress was becoming.

"Yeah? What about it?" Ruby asked. Of course she'd remember it - she'd thought it was pretty cool. Cool enough that Yang thought she'd do something embarrassing, but Yang couldn't help but agree with Ruby's response.

Mom totally would have killed that thing.

"I'm just saying, not that I think it's real or anything, but imagine if you were that Huntress in the story, and trying to get away from Grimm. Wouldn't a briar patch like this just be the worst? It'd be like an all-natural snare for catching dinner. Even Huntresses like us would have a hard time fighting in this."

Kalie seemed to shiver under the lukewarm rain, but Weiss nodded. "Indeed. It's like an arena already filled with traps and tripwires. Every branch we break is an alarm for those around to hear, while these vines alone…"

"Are you saying you want to give up?"

Yang winced at the sound of that. It was a challenge, and one aimed right at their pride. "I didn't say that," she replied. "More like a… pause, or another break. Kalie seems pretty worn out," she said.

Kalie did look tired, but it wasn't necessarily physical exhaustion. It was more the sort of jumping at the sound of every broken stick, and flinching at the darkness. It was obvious their guide was nervous, not that Yang could blame her. It was dark, raining, and they were trapped in tightly-enclosed thickets. It wasn't exactly horror-movie territory, but it was close.

"I… I can't say I'm comfortable with this," Kalie admitted as attention turned towards her, even as she kept looking into the dark. "Faunus aren't the only ones who can see in the dark you know. And even if they were, I'd never hunt in conditions like these. It's too easy to get sick or injured. I mean, I know this is important to you, but… it's important not to rush things, you know? Even for Huntresses. Sometimes you need to take a breath and relax."

Ruby didn't - wouldn't - put it like that, but she wasn't deterred.

"Sorry Kalie, but that's our friend out there, and for all we know he might be sick or injured already. Ren is… he's a really good guy. Even if he's quiet at times, he means _so much_ to his team, and he's our only guy friend at Beacon. He's the type that everyone can depend on, enough that things might fall apart without him, and…" she trailed off, and changed track. "Besides, isn't it safest to be doing this now? If we wait till the sun is up or the rain's gone, there'd be more Grimm to find us, right? But right now, they're probably all in their caves, and the rain is muffling our sound."

It was more rationalization than reasoning, but that didn't make it wrong.

"I-I guess we can keep going. You're the ones going to school at Beacon. That makes you the experts on Grimm, right?"

"Don't underestimate Beacon's Huntresses, okay?" Ruby thought of another hunter who had done just that, and her stomach still clenched when she remembered the sneer on his face. She could too save people. She was a real Huntress. She'd prove it by saving Ren. "I know tonight's tough, but we're better trained, so we can handle any Grimm that appear." She locked her gaze onto her guide. "Trust me. Trust us."

"Totally. Leave it to us. We're like, the best first-year team." Yang flexed an arm, but her boast was cut off in a yelp as a branch slapped back from Blake and hit her. "Okay, seriously. I'm about ready to just burn this place to the ground. Maybe that'd get rid of some Grimm too."

"R-rain aside, t-that wouldn't be a good idea-"

"Joking, Kalie. It was a joke. I'm just annoy-"

Whatever she was got cut off by a sudden lightning bolt, and then a loud peal of thunder. In the almost unnatural silence that followed, Yang let out a quiet breath and made to move forward. A pale arm stopped her.

"Wait!" Blake hissed, holding her back. Her eyes were narrowed. "I hear something."

"What?" Yang asked. "What is it?" Beside her, Kalie seemed to stiffen.

Blake seemed uncertain, but listened intently. Ruby did too, not that it helped. She couldn't hear anything unusual, and in fact couldn't hear much at all. Just the pitter-patter of raindrops, and paws…

Kalie gasped and tore the bow from her back. "Grimm!" she yelled.

Crescent Rose came forward, and not a moment too soon – as red eyes lit up the shadows between the trees, snarling and growling in their direction. Kalie hurried behind them deeper into the thicket, and Yang took a place between her and the Grimm.

"It's just Beowolves," she said. "We'll be fine. There's nothing to-" She trailed off, voice choked in a startled cough. Ruby turned to her in concern, but her sister was fine – just staring behind and up in shock. Come to think of it, wasn't it a little bit darker all of a sudden? That didn't make since though- out of the corner of her eyes, she could even see the moon.

But when had the clouds parted? Ruby turned to look.

Her heart froze.

/-/

"Jaune? Jaune! Where are you!"

"Where did he go?"

"The coward ran and hid!" Russel yelled, even as the sound of Grimm approaching could be heard in the distant brush. "He abandoned us!"

"Never mind him. Keep an eye open, but stay in formation." Cardin controlled his men like a seasoned drill instructor. "Follow my orders and we'll get through this in one piece."

Such was the banter of Team CRDL as they formed their battle lines. In the distance an ominous trampling was coming nearer- sounds of Grimm of all sorts and types. Despite starting at different places, they all made their way as fast as they could.

If they were coordinated to arrive at once, it would be a short bloodbath. But Grimm weren't coordinated. They weren't intelligent. Some were fast, some were slow, and they'd all arrive at different points. That gave the defenders a chance.

"Stay under the trees!" Cardin reminded his team. "Nevermore will get here fastest, but they can't aim through the foliage. We'll be safe from them as long as we-"

The condition would remain a mystery as something darted through the leaves and slashed past Cardin's face. Aura would prevent any real damage, but a small cut drew red all the same. There wasn't even time for Cardin to attempt a counter-attack as the shape raced back towards the canopy.

"What was that?"

"Nevermore chicks!" another answered, as tiny nevermore darted through the tree limbs and made passes at the group. That might have been overstating it, but it was true. A larger nevermore might be too big to fly through, but the smaller birds had no such problem.

"Take out what you can!" Cardin ordered, predicting where one bird would fly and swinging his mace in an intercept. "These small fries will be a real pain when the real deals show up!"

Team CRDL went into action, swinging blades with precision and agility befitting their training. Despite the Nevermore's diving speed, they were predictable - only so many paths to fly in and out of the enclosed area. Knives slashed, weapons swung, and Lark spun his halberd as a veritable shield, dicing any bird that flew in his direction. Though large feathers plunged through the canopy, they were so poorly aimed that they themselves became a sort of cover for Team CRDL to duck behind. Soon enough the murder was diminished, and not a moment too soon as the boys caught their breath.

"That should help us for now," Cardin panted as he team gathered together. "Mama Bird's not happy, but she can't do anything from up there as long as we have these trees."

"What's next?" Lark asked.

"Anyone seen Jaune?" Dove thought to ask.

"I didn't hear screaming," Cardin reasoned, "Assume he's alive. Get ready for the next wave. If we go by ground speed, next should be-"

"Boarbatusks!" Sky called in warning, even as a new rumbling came closer. It was indeed a brood of the man-eating monsters, too far to be picked out, but tearing up a dust cloud that could be seen even in the dark as they rolled up the hill.

"Dodge and hit the flanks!" Cardin ordered. "Don't bother trying to go through the armour!"

"Dude, I'm not sure we'll be able to do that," Dove warned, a tremor in his voice. "That's a lot of them coming up this way."

It was true. Even if it was too dark to count, the brood's size was undeniable- just the dust cloud visible at night was enough to tell. Dodging one Boarbatusk to counter-attack was easy, but dodging the one second that would aim where you'd just jumped to attack the first? Or the third that followed the last? Even experienced Huntsmen could have trouble keeping the footing needed for an attack after so much evasion- and that was without rain making everything slicker.

Grimm weren't intelligent, but they'd evolved, been culled, to have a certain animalistic cunning.

"Focus on the last wave," Cardin prepared them. "We'll whittle them down from last to first until-"

The first Boarbatusk was upon them before he could finish, and practically fell on them as it flew out of its murderous roll with a startled squeal. As soon as it passed through a gap between two trees it had stumbled out of its roll, inertia carrying forward in a short, impromptu flight that ended with it helpless at the feet of Lark, who quickly gored it.

One might have been an accident, but it wasn't just one - it was several, all stumbling as they passed through different trees. The Boarbatusks were as surprised as Team CRDL, and infinitely more alarmed as the junior Huntsmen exploited their moment of weakness.

"Jaune's traps!" Dove realized. "They're getting caught in the traps he placed earlier!"

"Guess he's not useless after all," Sky quipped, a mix of a cheer and a jeer.

"They won't last forever, so make them count!" Cardin directed. Though there were more Boarbatusks than traps, the disruption had broken the Grimm's rhythm. What might have taken turn after turn of Boarbatusk charges - what might have lasted into the next wave of Grimm - was broken by the chaos, as individual charges were avoided and the youngest Boarbatusks easily struck from the sides.

"Cardin, look out!"

Cardin didn't even look as he jumped aside at the warning, but even that wouldn't have saved him had Russel not grabbed and pulled him further. The unarmoured teen let out a cry of pain as a boulder of mass rumbled through where Cardin had been, and a splatter of red indicated his saviour hadn't gotten off with just a shove to the ground.

The boulder spun to a stop as it turned and revealed its true form - a massive Boarbatusk, easily five times bigger and five times bonier than the garden-variety they'd been fighting before. Red blood dripped from one of its tusks, and it looked at them with pure malevolent hate.

"That one doesn't look happy to see us," Sky noted uneasily, wishing he could hide further behind his weapon.

"Must be the Brood mother," Russel reasoned. "Probably didn't like us killing the others."

Cardin flourished his mace before him and snarled. "Yeah, well it isn't going to like us any more after we kill it, too. Now stop panicking. We're Huntsmen; we're trained for this."

The Brood mother was far larger than its fellows, but no more intelligent for it. Cardin side-stepped the massive tusks, then dodged further back when it tried to rear up and pound him with its mighty hooves. Sky and Dove took advantage of the opening to attack from behind, scoring hits, and he smirked as the beast bellowed its fury.

He wasn't used to playing the distraction, but he could do it well-enough, as long as the enemy was slower than him. He might not have been on Nikos' level, but that didn't mean he was a slouch. When the Grimm turned to try and gore Sky, focused only on the source of its pain, Cardin lunged in with a cry, spinning on one heel and delivering his mace into the back of its knee with incredible force. The blow was enough to shake him – and the Brood Mother – which buckled for a second and tried to kick back.

Russel had him covered, of course, yanking him out the way even if he could have dodged on his own. "Thanks," he said anyway.

"Heh. I got you, man."

"If you two are finished flirting!"

"Chill, Dove." Cardin stepped in to herd his teammate away, taking the beast's attention once more. His mace made a figure-eight through the air, and the Brood Mother followed it angrily. "I'll keep it busy," he called. "I want you guys to hang back until you see an opening to get at its underside."

"Got it!" The three nodded and backed away, the action ensuring the Brood Mother focused on him and him alone.

"Come on, you big bastard. Let's see what you've got…"

It lunged forwards. He took three steps back, deflecting the tusk aside with the haft of his weapon. When it swept its head to the side to try and eviscerate him, he ducked under the second – then lunged back up and rammed the head of his weapon into the underside of its jaw. It would have caved in the skull of a normal Boarbatusk, but this was much larger, and it was merely stunned at best. Taking it for what it was, he gripped both its horns between his hands and tried to tip it onto its side. Even though it was bigger and far heavier than he, his feet were squared and set, while it was stumbling on four.

It started to tip.

"Come on! Fall already!"

His muscles bulged, but to his frustration the thing started to regain its strength. One of its hooves dug down, preventing him from moving it any further – and he would be in a bad spot if it got itself under control. He was about to shout for his team to help when something whistled past his body. A feathered shaft sprouted from the beast's hind-left leg.

For a moment, both Cardin and the beast looked at the protruding sliver a wood dumbly, as if wondering what it was. That was before an audible 'crack' was heard, though, and electric arcs suddenly leapt from the point of impact. Cardin instinctively let go of the Grimm's bones, and was lucky enough to get away with just a jolt. The Brood Mother had no such escape, and squealed in sudden and unexpected agony. The electricity did what brute force had not, and seizures wracked the Boarbatusk enough to make it fall.

"Now!" Russel yelled, leading the pack to descend on it. Their weapons flashed as they leapt atop it and started to hack and slash, Sky severing one of the tendons to prevent it rolling back onto its legs. It squealed and kicked, but his team were no slouches. Soon enough it gave one final squeal, and then began to disintegrate like all Grimm did.

Cardin huffed and leant on his mace, eyes on the carnage before looking at the figure emerging from the shadows. "I thought you fled."

"I was just getting out of your way," Jaune replied, stepping from the shadows of the tree line. "That's what you wanted, right? A country bumpkin like me would only be a liability." The tone wasn't in jest, but Cardin didn't have the energy to take offense. Not when he remembered the arrow that tipped the balance.

"Nice shot," he grunted. "What was that?"

"Dust arrow," Jaune said, reaching the Brood Mother's corpse and yanking out the shaft. At the end were fragments of yellow shards. "Besides, I'm a hunter. If I couldn't make that shot, I'd go hungry." He looked at the shattered arrow, and gave a soft 'tch'.

"Now if only Grimm were good for meat, this wouldn't be a waste." He placed the shaft back into his bulky quiver, where it seemed to secure quite easily. Only then did he look at Team CRDL. "Camping's a no-go now. How are you holding up? Ready to move?"

Cardin leaned a bit more heavily on his mace than he liked as he turned to take in his team. Dove and Sky were panting too, but were still on their feet without any real blood. Aura damage only, then. But Russel…

"Russ, how's your arm?" Cardin asked.

It wasn't good, that much was obvious. It hung unnaturally, and blood flowed down it. Whatever the Brood Mother had hit, it had torn through even the aura.

Russel seemed as surprised to notice it as anyone, even as Sky moved to bandage it. Was that the adrenaline fighting off shock? Still, Russel did what Cardin expected, and refused to be a wimp. "It's nothing. I can keep moving," he said, even as he visibly failed to move it, and struggled to hold his weapon in his off-hand.

Jaune and Cardin both nodded, for different reasons. "Good," they said, almost in stereo. "Come on, we need to get going-"

The two boys stepped past each other in opposite directions.

They stopped just as quickly, to turn and look at each other. Jaune spoke first. "Uh, your friend is this way."

"He's not my friend," Cardin said, by reflex as much as anything else. "And I know."

"You know you're going in the wrong direction to save him?" Jaune asked, not believing his own words.

"We're not saving him," Cardin said, to the alarm of his team. "We're withdrawing."

"What!?" Jaune wasn't the only one surprised.

"We're withdrawing," Cardin repeated, even as his fist clenched tightly. "Russel is hurt – don't tell me you can't see that. He needs medical treatment and we're in no shape to continue on as it is."

Jaune's mouth opened, but nothing came out of it for once. He honestly looked flabbergasted. "What do you mean you're in no shape? He's still alive! Look, he can even walk!" Jaune said, gesturing towards Russel, who wavered but remained on his feet.

"Combat incapable is what he is," Cardin said, trying to ignore the flinch and look of hurt that went across Russel's face. The truth was the truth and no amount of bravado was going to change that. "He can't do much with one hand, especially his off-hand. There's no telling what he can actually do if we run into another fight like that again. He's a liability." It hurt to say that, but it was the case.

That didn't mean Jaune had to accept it. "That's it?! You became a liability when you chose to fight the Grimm in the first place, but you didn't see me giving up then!" Jaune exclaimed, voice raising more than Cardin had heard it before. "First, I couldn't get you to NOT fight, and now you're suddenly afraid of maybe fighting?"

"I'm afraid of a team wipe. I'm afraid of my friends being _killed_!" Cardin said, as much as it galled him to admit it. Lucky hit or not, seeing Russel hit like that - saving him no less - was a sharp reminder of his own mortality, and the morality of his team. "We're already down to 75 per cent combat effectiveness, maybe 80 if we include you. We might survive another battle like that, but two? Three? We only need one more real injury before we can be easily overrun – and then we all die. That's not a risk I can afford to take."

Jaune didn't seem to get it. In addition to pacing, his arms moved with a frantic energy. "Risk? There is no risk! No more than any other time on the frontier! Four or four hundred, the Grimm can always overwhelm you! That's what it means to be out in the Grimm Lands!" His nervous pacing stopped as he looked hard at Cardin. "You want to mitigate risk? Go that way," he said, gesturing in the direction he'd been trying to lead. "You know what's in that direction?"

"Ren?" Dove asked, not realizing it was probably rhetorical.

"No! Nothing! Nothing is in that direction!" Jaune exclaimed. "That," he said, gesturing in a slightly different direction, "is where your friend is. But this," he pointed back to where he wanted them to go, "is where those Boarbatusks you just killed came from. Do you know what that means?" he asked.

No one answered this time. No one knew. That only seemed to make Jaune more frustrated.

"It means that was their territory! Enough for an entire brood of Boarbatusks! That means that there are valleys and valleys of empty space out there right now, because you killed the Grimm who'd claimed it! If you go anywhere else, I can't guarantee what might be coming, but if we go this way - before any other Grimm show up to chase us - you'll be as safe as safe can be out here!" Jaune explained as urgently as he could. "You can wrap your wounds. You can find a cave and take a nap. You can even find your fellow Hunter and boost your number by one. Doesn't that mitigate risk?" he asked, turning Cardin's words back on him.

"Would we be able to make it there and back on time if anyone else was injured?" Cardin asked, not visibly moved. "If Ren was hurt and needed to be carried out of there?" he added before Jaune could answer. "If we ran into more Grimm, could we fight them off? Can you promise me that?"

Jaune hissed, and maybe that was enough for Cardin. Arcs weren't comfortable lying, or making false promises. He couldn't promise anything. Cardin shook his head.

"Russ is walking wounded already. If Ren's fine, he can hold out a little longer – enough for us to try again with another team. But if Ren's hurt too, hurt enough to need help or be carried, that's another person out of the fight to protect him. Both of them will be leaking negativity due to the pain, and that means more Grimm. That means only two people to fight whatever we come across. I don't like those odds."

"So what?" Jaune asked, not seeing the point. "You're Hunters. Fight like it. Or listen to me, and don't fight at all. Isn't saving him your top priority?" he asked.

"No," Cardin answered, simple as that.

"Excuse me?"

"No," Cardin repeated, remembering why he was right. Why he had to do this. "My top priority isn't to rescue him. My top priority is to ensure no one else needs rescuing. All lives being equal, Ren isn't worth two or more people. Losing a team of Huntsmen trying to save one person isn't just a bad idea; it's the kind of thing that can get everyone killed." He learned forward, looking Jaune straight in the eye. "I'm a team leader, Jaune, not just a Huntsman. That means I'm responsible for more than just myself. That means I have to make the hard calls for the greater good, whether I like it or not. And believe me; I do _not_ like doing this."

Jaune spat in his eye. Aura blocked the spittle from getting in, but not the sentiment.

"I take back what I said," Jaune said, blue eyes burning with something stronger than contempt. "You aren't everything I hate about Huntsmen. You're the worst kind of person, the sort who makes excuses to only save themselves and abandon others to the Grimm. Greater good? Don't make me laugh. People like you have no right to call yourselves Huntsmen at all."

Cardin should have been angry, should have gotten physical at the spittle if not the words. Instead, he felt strangely calm, secure in the certainty that what he was doing was, if not right, at least justified. The teachers at Beacon had prepared them for such an undesirable possibility. Back then, he'd been arrogant enough to think it would never happen. It was strangely liberating to know that, and for a moment he wondered what would tonight have been like had he had this calm earlier.

It didn't matter. Not now, anyway. "Whatever you say, Jaune," Cardin said, simply wiping the spittle off his face. "But we're still leaving." He looked at his team, and there was no question whose orders they were going to follow. "We head south," he said. "That's the emergency area for the evac zone. Once we're far enough for pickup, we'll light the flares and await extraction."

They nodded. Jaune just made a sound of disgust. "Fine. Run away if you want, but I'm not helping. I'll find your Huntsman myself, and probably be back before you," he said. Jaune was about to turn to leave, but only got a step before Cardin's voice followed.

"No. You're coming with us," Cardin said in a tone that brooked no dissent.

"Excuse me?" Jaune said, turning to face the grimly serious boy. "Didn't you hear me? I'm not going to guide you just so you can run away."

"You don't have to. Even I can find south with a compass. But if I'm responsible for this team, I'm responsible for you too. I'm not going to leave anyone behind if I have a choice about it."

"Liar," Jaune snapped, not even remembering to breathe. "Besides, I don't work for you. You're not the boss of me, and you can't keep me from walking away if I want to."

"I'm pretty sure I can," Cardin said, gripping his mace meaningfully. "Even a Huntsman can't run away with a broken leg, but I imagine a hunter would be about as useless with a broken wrist."

The air instantly chilled, and even the rest of CRDL was taken aback. "Cardin man, this is no time for jokes," Dove began.

"No joke," Cardin said, ice-cold, still looking directly at Jaune and not giving him a moment to slip away. "You come with us willingly, or Russel drags you with his one good arm. Either way you're coming with us," Cardin warned. "You and your sister can hate me all you want, as long as you're still alive to do so." He let out a bitter laugh. "Not like she could hate me much more regardless."

Jaune didn't care about his laughter. His blue eyes blazed with a frigid fire.

"I dragged myself out of the real Grimmlands for her," Jaune said, voice too steady to be called a snarl. "Leg broken every mile, not even the Grimm stopped me."

"I heard. Impressive if true," Cardin conceded.

"Then what do you think I'd do to you, Hunter?"

"Nothing," Cardin said immediately, not intimidated in the least. "That's your thing, isn't it? The reason you're a hunter and not a Huntsman?"

Jaune just glared. Cardin sighed, and some of the cold calm gave way to weariness.

"Look," Cardin said, giving up the more reasonable approach, "I didn't want to do this. I don't want to be the bastard here, but I'm not going to take risks either. Not with my teammate's lives and not with you disappearing on us the first chance you get. If I tell my team to go with you and you're wrong, Russel dies. If I leave you and you're wrong, you die." He looked at Sky and Dove, even as he drew his mace. "Secure his arms."

Jaune's eyes widened as he tried to move back, but he'd been so focused on his argument with Cardin he'd lost track of the rest of the team - or anything else. Trying to move away just meant bumping into one, and soon he was caught. He tried to pull away, of course he did, but these were Huntsmen. They had a grip that could wield weapons to slay monsters.

He was just a man, barely more than a boy.

It wasn't… it wasn't nice. But it wasn't cruel either, the way they held him in place. Neither Sky nor Dove would look him in the eyes. Someone whispered 'sorry,' but he didn't catch who. He was looking at Cardin, who was measuring an overhead blow with his mace. He was hesitating, and in a moment his eyes caught with Jaune. Jaune seemed calmer, somehow, and didn't beg for mercy.

"Don't make me do this, Jaune. You're angry, and I don't blame you. We all are. But I'm not going to risk you running off and getting hurt, even if I have to hurt you myself. Just give me your word you'll come with us, and I'll let it go." The offer was a good one – probably the right one – and had Jaune been anyone else, he would have accepted.

"Do it," he spat instead. "Show me what kind of Huntsman you really are."

Cardin stopped again, internal strain evident. The moment became moments, and unbearably long. The breaths they'd all been holding had to be released, though no one let go. The moment continued, until darkness blotted out the moon and covered the hillside with shadow.

Cardin's eyes widened.

"Dodge!" he yelled, even as he didn't do so himself. Sky, Dove, and Russel jumped when he said so, their instincts screaming. Cardin began to turn, but noticed Jaune hadn't, and probably wouldn't be fast enough. His retreat turned into a spin and with it the mace that had been ready to come down from above instead impacted against his chest and sent him flying into the darkness.

Not a moment too soon, either, for a boulder impacted the exact spot he'd occupied – crushing through rock and rearranging the ground with ease. A second later and he would have been crushed beneath it.

But now Jaune was gone, lost in the forest at the foot of the mountain that hadn't been there before. The mountain stood taller, blotting out half the sky and any stars that might have been behind it. The boys could only look up, and up and up and up, in shock as they landed.

Cardin's breath caught in his throat.

"Impossible. It can be-"

But it was. And it was a lot bigger than the Ursa Major from Forever Falls too.

/-/

Legendary Grimm Mouk

Duke of the Lunar Cry Mountains

Moon-eating Ursa

/-/

* * *

 **CF's Note:**

 **I think that's a good point to leave off, don't you?**

 **Due to length concerns, we're just short of finishing the prologue of HoS. This chapter ended up being a bit longer than expected, but finishing the prologue would have made it truly unreasonable, so we end it here. Next one will be a fair deal shorter, but no less important.**

 **Not much else to say at this point except- hey! More developments! And clues! And other stuff, including our first battle sequence, short as it is.**

 **Share your thoughts, and see you later.**

* * *

 **Coeur Note:** There were references to Grimm children in this like "Mama Bird" or "Brood Mother". Yes, we're aware that Grimm breeding has never been covered in the show, but that Salem can make them from pits of tar (like Saruman and Sauron from his tower – oh wait, wow, that's similar), but the point I want to make before cries of non-canon is that it's just "names" on the parts of the Huntsmen. They're just seeing loads of little Nevermore, and then a big one, and going "Mama Bird". It doesn't mean they are literally saying "Bird that is the biological mother!"

Just wanted to clear that up.

I also think CF initially may have hinted that Ren was supposed to make an appearance today, and he was - but that kind of chapter was getting to 17-18k words, and apart from draining me of the will to live, it was also leading to rushed moments because we were trying to force the issue. In SWS, I made the choice to make potentially two chapters one because I felt it fit better, but here it was the other way around. The large single chapter was definitely not to a high quality, so the decision to split it into two was made. At 11k, this chapter is still a more than decent size.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 4** **th** **November**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	5. Chapter 5

**Welcome to the beginning of the end... of the prologue/first arc of A Hunter or Something. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

It was a dark, if not particularly dreary, night in Vale as most of the Kingdom slept. Not surprisingly, that applied to most of its most earnest protectors too. The students and staff of Beacon Academy, almost all returned from the traditional summer break, slept soundly in their dry beds and warm rooms, almost all having pleasant or at least unbothered dreams. Almost all, for there were a precious few who had no dreams at all, who were not even sleeping, and if one were to look carefully at Beacon's central tower from afar then one might – might - have seen a small light lit from the highest level of the tallest tower.

Headmaster Ozpin was still awake, and still at work.

It might have seemed a familiar scene to those more trusted to wander the restricted parts of Beacon late at night. The Headmaster, still dressed in his typical attire, bent over a desk filled with papers. Some had signatures, many more did not, and reams of paper stood stacked and awaiting inspection. Almost absently the elderly man signed yet another form with one hand and took a sip from a mug with the other, head cocked to one side as he read in the dim light of his desk lamp. Maybe even he was drifting off. More likely he was waiting for any sound from a small intercom on his desk. Regardless, rather than bright lights only a small modest lamp lit the room as the highest man in the highest tower of Vale awaited the first signs of what the new semester would bring.

"Still no word?"

The Headmaster of Beacon Academy did not jump, did not startle, and did not spill the contents of his mug mid-sip. Maybe he was surprised, or maybe he had heard if not felt the presence approach. The soft beat of wings, the change in the movement of air coming through an open window, or maybe some other sign. It was almost a game of theirs, a game that always went the same way. Rather than react the Headmaster took his sip, held onto the sensation… and then released an almost satisfied breath. Only then did he speak, as calm as if his guest had walked through the door like any normal person and wasn't leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his face crosser.

"No news is good news, or so they say."

His guest frowned. "Or it can be the worst news. No one to call for help if everyone's dead. Weren't they supposed to find him today?"

"Yesterday, you mean?" Ozpin said with a half-smile. It had been a long night. "It was possible, but not necessarily guaranteed. The weather front moved in sooner than we expected. If they did not find him yesterday, they should today, and will still be able reach the evacuation zone before the worst of the monsoon hits. They're still within schedule, Qrow."

'Uncle' Qrow was un-mollified. "You don't know that," he snapped. "You're taking that on faith. This isn't a picnic, Oz, or some stroll through the backwoods of Patch. I know that frontier. That's the Grimmlands in all but name, and you let my girls-!"

"Your girls," Ozpin interrupted with a calm his ally lacked, "are also my students, and promising young Huntresses in their own right. If I did not believe they could accomplish this mission, I would not have given them permission to go when they asked. The same applies to Team CRDL, who too have the potential to be true Huntsmen." He took another sip, a pause that all but forced calmness in the air. "They are in danger, yes, but danger is the price we must be willing to accept as Huntsmen. If I have faith, it is because I know you and others trained them as best you could for everything you thought they needed. And if I let them go out with the hope of saving their friend, it's because hope-"

"-is our most powerful weapon against the Grimm, I know," Qrow finished for him, still frowning. "Don't try and pull that one on me, Oz," he warned. "If good feelings and a lack of fear were all it took, we wouldn't be needed, but we are so it isn't. Training isn't enough to be a Huntress, you need more than that. You need experience, the sort of wisdom that knows when it's best to go fast to get through trouble or when it's better to go slow to avoid it altogether. My nieces are many things, but afraid to run towards trouble if they think it'll help someone isn't one of them. Especially if it's for friends or family. You should know that as well as anyone, if what you said about the docks is true."

A beat. No response. Ozpin was reading through yet another document of some sort.

"You know as well as I do that they aren't ready. You should have sent someone else with them at the very least, someone who could reign them in or at least give them direction."

"I did. The guides were found for a reason."

A scoff. "Not some random civilian volunteer. I mean someone they would listen to, someone they'd respect, or at least someone they'd fear enough to listen to. Like Glynda." He narrowed his eyes. "You should have sent Glynda."

There was an honest sigh as Ozpin lowered his document down.

"I couldn't. The Council insists she stay in the city and patrol the streets at night." A hint of frustration arose, and not just in sympathy for Miss Goodwitch's many late nights. "The near-miss with Torchwick gave them hope it could happen again. The White Fang at the docks have made them even more desperate. It's all I can do to keep them from asking her to leave her post at Beacon to patrol the city full-time."

Not that she would, of course. Beacon would have to fall before Glynda Goodwitch would willingly serve the Council. But even if it was a fight he could win, at least in the short term, it wasn't a battle worth fighting. Not if he could avoid it, and especially against a foe he couldn't simply destroy. There are some things - many things - even a Beacon Headmaster prefers to avoid rather than fight head on

"Fine. Not Glynda, then," Qrow conceded, willing to believe the worst of the Council. "Someone else then. Any Huntress would do."

"I tried. Your sister laughed." Ozpin waved a hand. "The usual reasons."

Qrow looked unhappy, for multiple reasons. "That's it? That's all you tried?"

"Of course not. I tried you but wasn't able to reach you in time," Ozpin answered, even as he pulled one page closer to the desk and pulled out a pen. "Between the monsoon and the time he's been missing, we couldn't afford to wait."

"You're telling me no one else was available, then?" Qrow challenged. "Everyone else had better things to do?"

"Yes, actually," Ozpin answered neutrally as he signed the form in front of him. He sounded remarkably normal. "'Better' is a matter of opinion, of course, but it is summer. You know what that means for us."

Qrow let out a 'tch,' but didn't deny it.

Once upon a time not too long ago, Valean summers weren't a time for idle beaches or fancy vacations. Summer was the time children across the Kingdom laboured to bring in the summer harvest, and helped plant the last wave of crops before the fall. It was a hard life, not a pleasant struggle, and Qrow could remember members of his less reputable family looking down on the peasants and feeling superior that it wasn't them toiling in the farm fields to bring in nature's bounty.

That was the rub though, wasn't it? Farm fields and nature's bounty. By the nature of it, you wouldn't find either behind the Kingdom walls, but Kingdoms needed the food they provided. Food meant farms and hunting outside the Kingdom walls. Out on the near-frontier - but not too far, lest the harvest spoil before it get to market - settlements dedicated to nothing else existed, marking the boundary between the Human kingdoms and the Grimmlands. But the Grimmlands meant Grimm, and Grimm meant death for all but the strongest fighters and the fastest fleers.

Neither of which could be expected from the farmers working the land far from the safety of the city walls.

Much had changed since then. The rise of dust automation, farm machinery, and changing norms had largely rendered children unneeded for such mundane work. Most cheered the Council's edicts on child labour, enforced with the short arm of the Kingdom's laws, and some saw even more changes in the future. Dreams of fully automated farms ignored by Grimm and tended by dust-powered robots, feeding entire Kingdoms and negating the need for a frontier. But those visions were a long ways away, and even if children no longer worked the fields near Vale a great deal of older people still did.

Summer, in other words, was still the Huntsman busy season. The time when Huntsman were in the highest demand and Huntresses needed the most, not to help bring in the harvest but to protect those who did.

In all honesty, their mere presence did almost as much good as their fighting, and their absence a self-fulfilling prophecy. Protected farmers were happy farmers, all the safer for believing that they would be safe if dreaded enemies dared attack. Abandoned farmers were the opposite, aware of their vulnerability to monsters or malign men and nervously watching a darkness quite willing to vindicate such fears. Abandoned farmers could quite easily be dead farmers, or abandon their farms and leave their fields fallow. You could never really avoid that - there were never enough Huntsmen or Huntresses for all the farms, especially those far from Vale - and leaving some land fallow might help the harvest next time. But fallow farmland didn't feed anyone this year, and if enough farms were abandoned there might even be a famine. A kingdom without food but full of empty bellies…

The Kingdoms - the surviving Kingdoms, at least - went to great lengths to avoid that.

Qrow closed his eyes and leaned back, head up with a pained expression on his face. He took a deep breath, a pained expression on his face, before letting it go. When he looked at Ozpin again, it was with less anger-worry and more beseeching.

"You couldn't delay."

"After the Golden Seventy-Two hours is the monsoon. You know as well as I do the chances of any Huntsman surviving much longer out there."

"And you couldn't pay to lure in some better Huntsmen."

"The school doesn't have the budget to hire mercenary Huntsmen. We're lucky enough that we were able to arrange bullhead transport on such short notice. SDC will no doubt want something someday for their generosity in refitting the bullheads for the long-range expedition." Ozpin sighed. "I'll consider the debt worth it for the safe return of a student, but we're not exactly floating in assets."

"You couldn't even send someone from the faculty? Not even Glynda, just… anyone?"

Here Ozpin paused, his mouth a thin line, before his pen moved again on another page.

"Chess is a metaphor, not a literalism. If I simply told people what to do and could expect them to obey without question, they wouldn't be Huntsmen. Not good ones, anyways."

Qrow didn't disagree, but didn't say anything else either. Ozpin sighed.

"They're teachers, Qrow, not pawns. They already have a full-time job, and that job includes preparing to teach the next generation of Huntsmen over the next semester. Every day they don't - every day they miss in class or even in preparing - is hundreds of students who receive worse education, or no lessons at all. Lessons that could one day save their lives if they pay attention."

Ozpin shook his head, and for the first time looked Qrow straight in the eye.

"My teachers are faculty, not free agents for a rescue force. Field trips aside, that's what they had to accept when they took this job - that they would be teaching students how to save others, rather than doing so themselves. If I sent them out every time there was someone needing rescue, I'd never have anyone to teach classes."

Ozpin smiled, but it was a bitter one, and not caused by coffee. "And even if they were free agents for hire, I'm not sure I could afford them," he admitted. "I have to settle for those available and willing to work for free. Unfortunately, not everyone shares your and your sister's sense of altruism."

Qrow sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head and reaching for a flask. "No, you have to settle for people who just care about friends and family."

"Team CRDL is neither."

Qrow paused at that, opening one eyes to look at Ozpin. Ozpin… looked damnably mysterious, stating a simple fact without any hint as to what he was thinking. Though maybe, if Qrow had to guess, the Headmaster looked pleased in some slight way.

It was almost exhausting. Or maybe it was. Qrow looked at his flask, contemplating the merits of drinking. It was a bit late to start now - or maybe a bit early? Either way, the late night Qrow hadn't gone to sleep for either just seemed more exhausting. There was one last question he had to ask, though, even as he loathed the expected answer.

"And the other students? Or even a team of upper years?"

"Most were scattered for the summer or were taking their own missions. One tried, but couldn't get back before the main expedition left. Obviously, Mr Lie's team was too compromised to be part of the search and rescue. As for the rest…" This time, Ozpin did frown.

"Lie Ren is hardly well known or well-loved across the student body. I imagine most students 'had better things to do' with the last of their summer than spend it searching the woods for someone they never spoke to." He paused. "I suspect some of the Huntresses I contacted had similar thoughts as well." Be it protecting the families of others, or spending time with their own, or even things more important than one's very own daughter.

Qrow ceased resistance and knocked back his flask with a sudden swig. He kept it up long enough for multiple gulps, or to cover several choice words. When he lowered it, his eyes burned as much as his throat.

"I hate us sometimes, Oz," he admitted. "People. Huntsmen. Sometimes we have the shittiest reasons for what we do, and what we don't ," he said, before wearily blinking and looking around, as if checking for any impressionable young ears.

"It's what makes us human, faunus included," Ozpin returned calmly, not refuting the accusation. "Not everyone does the right thing for the right reasons. I suspect most of us don't, even if we could agree on what those right reasons are. At best we have valid reasons for doing what we already want to do. What's important, though…" He trailed off, looking in the distance. "What's important is that most people try to do good, whatever their reasons or misconceptions. That's what makes us different from monsters." He shared a tired smile with his ally. "That's what I hope, anyway."

"Hope, huh," Qrow repeated, scoffing but not necessarily dismissing. "And you really couldn't afford to send anyone else who?"

"Not at a cost I was willing to pay." Not at costs that weren't just monetary, or a trading of favours, but the opportunity costs of compelling Huntsmen to give up tasks they were already assigned. Tasks that were important in their own right. It was the very human costs of leaving frontier farms unguarded, students un-taught, or other vital tasks undone – all the consequences that might have come from such hasty decisions.

"Lie Ren understood the risks when he volunteered."

"Of course he did," Qrow scoffed again. "Because kids these days finally know their own mortality." He barked a laugh, bitter as it was, and shook his head. "No wonder hope is our greatest weapon against the Grimm. It's free, and kids have plenty of it."

Ozpin said nothing - could say nothing - and Qrow's next shake of his head was simply one of resignation.

"Here," Qrow said, pulling something out of his clothes and tossing it over. A scroll - paper, not machine - fell onto Ozpin's desk with a soft thud. "It's what you asked for. The reason I couldn't make it in time. I hope it's worth it, Oz," he said.

"It will be," Ozpin said, taking the paper and unrolling it, revealing numbers and a list of names. He looked up at Qrow, who looked uncomfortable. "Is this everyone?"

"I counted every one of those bastards I could, and the names of a few more I overheard about. They were about as happy to see me as you would expect." Qrow sighed. "I hate family reunions."

"Only you could have done this, Qrow," Ozpin reminded, though technically it should have been 'would.' "And this is helpful. Every village needs food, after all." Even clans of murderers who looked down on the farmers producing it.

Some clans resorted to banditry to get what they wanted, but if they didn't have to - if arrangements of food could be made otherwise with the Kingdom - then they wouldn't feel forced to practice their craft to take what they needed to survive. But to know actual numbers - to know how much was needed, factoring in the needs of the surrounding settlements, and collecting the reports of the initial summer harvest to base expectations all across the dangerous frontier…

"Damn census duty," Qrow muttered, taking a drink.

It was funny what real Huntsmen did for the sake and safety of the Kingdoms.

"I'll put it to good use," Ozpin promised, before the first glimmers of morning twilight rose from the east. Being the man in the highest tower of all of Beacon, or Vale, had its perks. One of those was the earliest sunrise and being the first to see the day to come.

The intercom on Ozpin's desk squawked, bring both men to attention.

"Headmaster Ozpin?" his secretary who - bless her soul - had taken the night shift as well just in case a message needed to be relayed.

"Yes, Miss Melody?" Ozpin answered politely after he hit the intercom switch on his desk. Once he was done, he hit the switch again so he could receive her.

"There's been a call from SDC about Mine SDM703. Would you like the good news or the bad news first?" That was her game, and always had been. To let people pick their poison, or the order, as fit their mood.

Ozpin traded a look with Qrow. "Schnee Dust Mine 703," he explained. "I believe the locals call the village `Edge`, not that the Schnee care for that."

"Obviously," Qrow said, rolling his eyes.

"Give me the good news first, please," Ozpin requested.

"A small business owner represented by SDC has filed an insurance claim against us, sir," his secretary said. "Apparently an unidentified huntress destroyed some private property."

"And that's good news how?" Qrow asked from the side, revealing his presence in the conversation.

"Is that Mr Branwen? Of course it is, who else could be up there?" Miss Melody asked, seemingly unsurprised but by no means pleased at the eavesdropper. "It is good news because there are no witnesses to testify against us. We could probably fight this off in court, sir, but SDC is willing to settle for a very reasonable amount to cover the property damages. If we settled out of court, we could even avoid an impact to our student insurance premiums." She sounded almost happy at that, as well she might. Melody had always been a glass half-full sort of person. She wasn't wrong either, because the alternatives could be timely and costly. Not for the mysterious Huntress responsible, mind you, but for the lawyers and litigants who typically fought these insurance battles in the courts while students were in school or off saving the day.

Still, no witnesses? Then how did they even know it was a Huntress in the first place?

It wasn't really a surprise. Even without the challenge overcoming the typical benefit of the doubt given to the Heroes of Remnant, not many civilians were brave enough to publicly accuse a Huntress of, well, just about anything. Not when a truly immoral Huntsman of even modest competence could easily do much worse in revenge, especially outside the reach of the short arm of the law. The Kingdom's justice systems were what they were because they rarely had much reach beyond the Kingdom walls, and that was without the other possible consequences of taking your protectors to court.

Not many villages could keep a Huntsman around if they got a reputation for suing them. Between a little leeway now or not having any Huntresses around when the Grimm attack later, the choice was obvious.

Ozpin looked at Qrow, and Qrow looked back. 'I'll talk to her,' Qrow mouthed, and Ozpin nodded, leaving it at that.

There was not a doubt between either of them as to who was responsible.

"Alright, Miss Melody," Ozpin said, turning back to the intercom and bracing himself for the rest. "What's the bad news?"

There was a pause, and her hesitance - the hesitance of a secretary who had been with Ozpin as long as anyone, who even Qrow remembered from when he was a student at Beacon and so who had seen so many things - was palpable.

"Another distress beacon was triggered earlier this morning, sir," Melody informed. "The recovery team has already launched for an emergency evac, but it will still be another several hours until they arrive."

Until they arrived. It would be hours after the situation was already so dire that the call for help was sent in the first place, and then another several more for them to return. The Golden 72 was for when people were lost, but when people - or at least normal people - were hurt enough to warrant calling in emergency assistance…

Ozpin took off his glasses and pinched his nose, even as he tapped the response button once again.

"Team CRDL?" he guessed. Every team had its own unique beacon.

"No sir," Melody denied. "Team RWBY."

Qrow's hands clenched. Ozpin spoke for him.

"Injuries?" A beacon - a modern one, at least - could signal that too.

"Yes, sir."

Qrow held his breath. Ozpin asked what he could not.

"How bad?" Ambulatory, which you could walk off? Crippling, which you couldn't? Life-threatening, where you never would again?

"Severe, sir," Melody said. "That's all it said before the source cut off. I'm sorry."

Qrow whipped around, making for the window he'd come in from. "I'm going," he said, as simple as that. No argument. "Tell Tai I'll be there."

Then he jumped, and was gone to the sound of beating wings. As the air in the room flowed out, Ozpin sighed, took a breath, and leaned forward and keyed his intercom again. Qrow would not make it in time even had he flown the entire way, a reason why Ozpin had been awake late at night and not there in person himself.

Among other things, of course.

"Miss Melody," he began, "please find the soonest flight to the frontier that you can for Mr Branwen. Charge it to my personal account, please." Professional Huntsmen were expensive, but a bullhead ticket? That was cheap by comparison.

"Yes sir," his trusted secretary acknowledged, before the line cut off again. Not five minutes later, she called him back.

"It's done, sir, but…" she began.

"Is that Ozpin? Tell him I'm still waiting to speak with him," a female voice interrupted in the background, before Melody no doubt turned off the speaker.

"Melody?" Ozpin asked. His secretary soon called him back.

"Headmaster Ozpin? Mrs Arc is here to speak with you. Again. Shall I tell her you're still in your meeting?"

After a pause, Ozpin keyed the mike.

"No need for that," a gravelly voice loudly said behind him, sending Ozpin into a frantic grab for his cane by reflex alone. Ozpin whirled, and despite the feeling of absence easily spotted the man perched on his window sill. It wasn't clear how tall he was all hunched over like that, but it was clear he wasn't armed. Though there were some things wrapped around his shoulder, including a rope, both hands were clearly visible and holding onto the window sill beneath him, like a big cat ready to pounce.

Behind him the rising sun lit dirty-blonde hair, but in the dim morning light did nothing to hide the sharp blue eyes watched him with an intensity that made even Ozpin's aura stir, albeit too late to serve as a warning.

"The other guy just left. Headmaster's free, Maria," his watcher called loud enough to be heard through the intercom.

Because Ozpin had not yet turned off his end of the intercom bridge, Melody's response could not be heard. To keep her from fearing the worst - or worse, trying to return to a line of work she'd rightfully retired from long ago - Ozpin spoke up as well. "It's alright, Melody. You can send her up." Then he keyed the intercom off, and turned entirely towards his patiently waiting visitor.

"Hope you don't mind me letting myself in," his guest mused, still watched him intently as a hawk, "but I saw the other guy do it and figured you have an open-window policy or something. If he can come in this way, I can too, right? Fair's fair, after all."

Ozpin's eyes narrowed and he looked far less welcoming than he'd sounded on the intercom a moment ago.

"How long were you listening?" he asked, demanding explanation. The man didn't seem intimidated.

"Long enough to know I like that other guy," the perched man said, still intently focused. "It's rare to find someone who's not too uptight to drink in school. It's nice to see someone up here who keep less than sanctimonious company. And I can really appreciate a guy who not only cares for his family, but is willing to race off at the drop of a hat and do whatever it takes for a niece who might be in over her head."

Blue eyes sharpened into a glare, and the intense pressure hardened as the blonde-haired man leaned forward.

"It kind of reminds me of myself, _Huntsman_ ," the eagle-eyed man all but snarled.

The Nevermore taking off at the Emerald Forest beneath the cliffs of Beacon were probably a coincidence.

Ozpin wasn't affected. Or at least, he didn't let himself be affected. But with the man at the window in front of him, and the woman in the elevator quickly rising behind him, he knew even his patience would be tried soon enough. He couldn't even defenestrate himself after Qrow now either.

As the sun rose before him, and the chime of the elevator signalling the door opening behind him, Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon Academy took a breath and prepared himself for another glorious day in Remnant.

/-/

Team CRDL burst out of the tree line wide-eyed and a mess. It didn't matter that dawn was breaking. The daylight just made it easier to see how bloodied they all were. Their clothing was covered in grime and blood, their faces too, and even their eyes were bloodshot from lack of rest and constant fighting, not to mention the alertness and panic as they rushed through the forest ever-aware of the potential of an ambush.

It had taken a lot out of them. Too much.

Russel was swaying on his feet. Dove joined him, leaning against him for support as much as anything else. They were the most shaken, the hardest hurt. By comparison, Sky was just coughing constantly and Cardin had lost a pauldron somewhere along the line, but it wasn't worth going back for. Let the Grimm keep it. It was theirs now. Lost to the Grimmlands, like so much else.

"Cardin! You're alive!"

Never had Ruby of Team RWBY sounded so glad to see him, and never had he been so relieved in return. Old animosities mattered little against the Grimm. Anyone - or anything - not wearing a white mask was a welcome sight right now.

"Hey," he rasped, throat raw from smoke and the shouting of orders. Despite the pain, he forced himself to keep talking. "Good to see you're still alive. We saw your smoke."

Not the smoke from signal flares, but from actual fire. The tree line was only a tree line because much of the surrounding area had been turned to cinder and ash. Amazing what a little fire dust could do, even with wet wood. He had no idea whether it was the Schnee or Xiao-Long who caused it, but if it removed any chance of Grimm sneaking up on them, he was all for it. It had also let his team find them.

"We saw yours," Ruby returned, too tired to spare anything for humour. "The Moon Ursa?" she asked.

"Huh, so you saw it as well?" Cardin asked, relieved he and his team weren't losing their minds, and not caring how she knew. "I know Grimm get bigger out here, but how old was that thing? Why didn't it go after you?"

"I… don't know," Ruby admitted, and in doing so brushing against an acute sort of vulnerability, the fragility of knowing that if it had gone for them, things might have been impossibly different. "It never fought us in the first place. I don't think it even noticed us. It just walked by, heading somewhere else. It was like we were too insignificant to matter."

A humbling thought, especially from a man-eating Grimm.

Cardin breathed a little bit easier. Maybe they really had gotten away, for now. "Think it will come back?" he asked.

"The story said it learned to go away from the fires, right?" Ruby asked. "That's what the person in the legend did, so Blake thought it might work here." She shrugged towards the burned down trees, and he realized maybe it hadn't been in hopes of removing cover at all, but instead of forcing the Moon Ursa away. It was a ballsy plan.

"Hopefully it works," Cardin agreed. The fact that hope was all they had - hope in a country fairy-tale, no less - was a dispiriting thing. He looked at her. "So, if not for the Moon Ursa, why are you still here? Why not move? I thought you'd be finding your friend already."

Ruby didn't glower, but sank within herself, looking as defeated as he felt. "We had to fall back and call for evac," she admitted, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "We needed a landing zone, and after we killed all the Grimm in the area and started the fire, this worked, but only because-" and suddenly, Ruby cupped her hands to her face and tried to suppress a wail. "Because it's all my fault!"

It was a surreal sight for Cardin. Once, not too long ago, he might have laughed or jeered at the younger girl, certain nothing would befall him. Now he awkwardly reached out to touch – comfort - his fellow team leader. "What is?" he asked as softly as he could. "What happened?"

A loud, pained scream, the sort that made all of CRDL alert and look for any other Grimm, provided the answer.

Over on the far side of the burned-out clearing were the other girls of Team RWBY, clustered around a body. The body - still alive, for now - was of the other guide, the one Cardin only remembered by her green headband and pretty face. The face was anything but pretty now, and that was with the bandana lowered to cover the eyes. The remaining three girls of RWBY surrounded her, holding her down. And pulling something out.

The girl was a pincushion of nevermore quills, and blood stained the charred ground beneath her.

Kalie screamed again as another quill was removed, but this time softer, smothered by Blake's hand over her mouth. She was doubtlessly biting as hard as she could, and even from this distance Cardin could see the shine of aura protecting skin. Blake looked distressed, but seemed to care about her hand as little as she did her shredded clothes.

"Come on, Kalie, please Kalie, relax Kalie, it's going to be alright," Blake chanted, far too loud to be called a whisper. "It'll be over soon. We just have to get some of these quills out before the bullhead arrives, so you can lie down for the trip, alright?" But then her hand slipped, maybe from active aura making it harder to keep a grip, and Kalie began to thrash as violently as she could, preventing Blake from smothering her once more.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Kalie wailed, thrashing feebly against the three stronger girls holding her down. "I'm sorry Con, I'm sorry Jaune, I'm sorry Ma! I was wrong I was wrong I was-" a sob of pain and more could be heard as Blake tried but failed to cover her mouth again. Mad with pain, Kalie resisted. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm- I I just wanted to prove a point! I'll never hunt again, I swear I swear I swear so please oh please just _make it stop_!"

"Hold her down," Weiss whispered as Blake's hand found its place again. Weiss's own blood-stained hands gripped another feather. Kalie must have felt, and writhed wildly under Yang's grip. Weiss clenched her eyes shut, whispered an apology, and pulled.

Even through Blake's hand, they could still hear her.

Blood followed. Nevermore quills were barbed like bee stingers, to do more damage on the removal, though Weiss was immediately ready with another makeshift bandage. Her own coat was nowhere to be seen, suggesting where the bandages were coming from. Despite the tenderness, Kalie whimpered as the bandage was applied. She whimpered and thrashed and cried, and although the occasional word could be heard past Blake's hand, little could be made out as the girls held their guide down.

"It's all my fault," Ruby repeated, drawing Cardin's attention back to her. The girl looked… the girl looked about as expected, really, even as Kalie's babbling turned incoherent, delirium finally kicking in. "It's my fault. We got stuck in a thicket when the Grimm came, and I thought she'd be okay as long as the Beowolves couldn't reach her, but then the Nevermore came and they…" the girl shook, and it was hard to tell if it was tears or rage or both. "They weren't big, but they were mean and just wouldn't stop! We kept on getting caught in the vines as we tried to knock them down and she could only shoot a few until she got hit and then they _just wouldn't stop_ -"

Another smothered scream came, overpowering the faint whispers, and Ruby's hands leapt to her face as she herself let out a strangled sob. She cried louder than if it were happening to her. Ruby Rose, the girl who seemed to fear nothing – not even death – had seemingly found something far worse to fear.

Failure. And not being the one to bear the consequences of it.

Cardin, unfamiliar as he was with such things, tried to reach out and offer absolution. "It's not your fault, Ruby. Bad encounters happen. You can't predict everything."

It didn't help. The look on Ruby's face showed that enough. "But it is! She told me she wasn't comfortable going on at night! She tried to tell us to wait for morning! If we'd just stayed in the cave it wouldn't have mattered! But I didn't want to stop. I wanted to find Ren, to find him before you, and so I- I didn't listen and I told her it'd be alright because we'd protect her and then- but- but we didn't and-"

Now she really did break down, covering her face in her hands once more and crying. Cardin did what he could, even if it was just an uncomfortable touch on the shoulder and sharing the guilt as she struggled to get herself back under control.

"You're not… you're not the only one who didn't listen," he admitted. "At least you didn't lose your guide."

"Close enough," Ruby said with a sniffle, before really hearing what he said. "Wait, what?" She blinked, tears away but red eyes remaining. "What do you mean?" She looked up, and around, at the four men of Team CRDL. Her face was suddenly pale. "W-Where's Jaune?"

It was Cardin's turn to not look her in the eye. "I don't know."

"What?" Ruby said, not comprehending. "How? Where-?"

Where, he didn't know. How… he'd rather not say. Not yet. Not until he had to.

Cardin was saved from answering when the roar of a bullhead approached. It was soft at first, surprisingly so, but then suddenly loud, and right above the clearing. It appeared to have been skimming at tree top level the entire time, muffling its approach.

Team CRDL let loose a breath of relief, staggering to their feet. They went to help Team RWBY, who was trying to lift Kalie as gently as they could. That left Ruby and Cardin alone for a moment, even as the bullhead - three bullheads, really - hovered overhead.

One for RWBY, one for CRDL, and one for reinforcements, delayed at first but ready to welcome the returning teams and even more ready to fight any last onslaught of Grimm. It should have relieved him but it didn't. He knew who was on that aircraft.

That was the one they were most anxious about, even after Team CFVY emerged and jump down to secure the area. Coco already had her minigun out, ready to level the forest at the first sign of Grimm at the tree line. Her boys were beside her, even as Velvet - and wasn't that an uncomfortable but welcome sight - landed last, a large aid bag at her side.

A single glance at their teams and Kalie saw her alter her path immediately rush over to the most seriously wounded, jumping over the burnt stumps and charred trees that littered the fire-cleared clearing.

Down last came five more pairs of feet, including the three people Cardin and Ruby least wanted to see right now.

"Ready?" Cardin asked softly, as an aside.

"No," Ruby admitted, sniffling once more as she wiped something out of her eye, "but what else is new today?"

There was a certain black humour to that which might have made Cardin smile in any other situation. Not now, and not when a desperate blur of ginger and pink rushed towards them. It was all he could do to stay standing in the face of it. He wanted to flee.

"Ruby!" the vanguard of Team JNPR called, running as fast as she could. "Where is he? Where's Ren?"

"I'm sorry," Ruby whispered. "We… we couldn't find him."

"WHAT?" Nora cried, louder by far and reaching for Ruby. "What do you mean?!"

Ruby quivered. Cardin intercepted Nora's hands before they could reach the smaller girl, not that he thought she'd hit her, but more than Nora wouldn't know her own strength. Ruby looked close enough to collapse already.

"She means we didn't reach him," he said.

"Then why are you waiting here?" Nora exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of worry and fury that made her words less questions and more fevered demands. "Get back out there! Go find him!"

"We can't, Nora," Ruby tried to explain, but it came off as babbling. "The Grimm, they were too much! The Moon Ursa, it's too big!"

"I don't care how big some stupid Ursa is!" Nora declared, hefting her hammer. "Ren's out there! He could be hurt! He needs our help! If you don't won't, I'll will!"

There was a frightening possibility that she might. That she'd run off into the forest, hammer and all, and almost assuredly never be heard from again. She was strong, he'd admit, but there was no way she would do any better than they had. She'd do worse, even, since she didn't have a guide to rely on – or ignore, in both their cases. Cardin grabbed her before Ruby could try. "Don't be stupid. You'd die sooner than we failed."

Cardin was rewarded for his honesty with a clean blow that did more damage than anything else had that night. He folded, but Nora's hammer froze when a red-gloved hand gripped it.

"Calm down, Nora," Pyrrha said, as soothing as she could be given the circumstances. "Think about what Ren would do. He wouldn't want you upset like this."

"But Ren- he-" Nora's urgency quivered as she looked at Pyrrha. "He's all alone and could be hurt and- and-" Tears began to rise. "He _left me_ , Pyrrha! He left me behind and now he's all alone and no one else is _even trying_ -"

The dam burst, and the berserker broke down into tears even as Pyrrha enveloped her. "That's not true, Nora," she said. "You know that's not true. You know RWBY must have done their best-"

They were words meant to sooth, but they had the opposite effect on Ruby who looked down, even as footsteps approached, even as she saw a pair of jeans enter her vision, and four more legs behind. Ruby couldn't look up, and braced for what she knew would follow.

"Ruby?" the all-too familiar feminine voice hesitantly asked. "I don't see Jaune. Where is he?"

Ruby still couldn't look up. Still couldn't meet those soft blue eyes. "I'm sorry," was all she could manage.

"Sorry?" her best friend didn't understand. "Sorry for what? Ruby, I don't understand. Where is he?"

"I… I don't know," Ruby admitted, hands clenching. "He wasn't with me. I'm sorry."

"Huh? But-"

"Your brother didn't go with her," Cardin said, standing with a pained grunt. "He went with me."

"Cardin? But why? What happened?"

Cardin hesitated for a second, but eventually told her the truth. "We got separated when a Grimm attacked. We had to retreat, and I couldn't go back for him. It's… I'm the one responsible." He closed his eyes. "It's my fault. I'm sor-"

The sound of the girl's palm impacting his cheek was deafening. Ruby shivered but Cardin took it without complaint, not even saying a word. Neither team leader dared to breathe. The hands - hands usually so friendly, now shaking – grasped Ruby's cloak and almost picked her up. They were trembling, and it was hard to tell if they were trying to be gentle or trying to not be something worse as they made her look up.

Ruby's first friend at Beacon looked down at her with frightened eyes.

"A.. A Grimm attack? My brother, you... you know he's not a real Huntsman, right?" blue eyes asked, wide with uncertainty. "I know what I said, but- it must have been obvious. That's why I asked you… you _promised_ you would keep an eye out for him." Her voice, while shaking, was slowly increasing in volume, in fear, in many other less wholesome things. "Where is he, Ruby? Where is Jaune? _Where is my brother?!"_

Ruby's fists clenched, as did her eyes.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" her friend exclaimed, no different than if someone had been delivering the same news to Yang. "He's my brother! He only went because I asked him to! I didn't-"

" _You_!" Nora suddenly roared, rising to her feet and stumbling towards the two of them in tears, hands clenching. Ruby's eyes clenched even harder, if that was possible, and wished it was all a bad dream. "This is _your_ fault!"

"Nora, that's enough!" Pyrrha tried to restrain, but her words were thrown off as easily as she was. "She didn't-"

"She did! She's the reason why! None of this would have happened if it weren't for her!" Nora raged, regardless of consequence. "This is all your fault, you hear me? Your fault! Ren, your brother, everything! _It's all your fault!"_

Ruby tried to shut it all out, tried to ignore what followed, and desperately wished that this worst day ever could just be a dream already, even a nightmare.

At least nightmares ended eventually.

/-/

Damn Hunters.

Damn them. Damn them damn them, damn them! Real Hunters were all the same, no matter what they wore or how much they pretended otherwise. In the end, they always ran off to save themselves, just like everyone else from the Kingdoms. 'Leave no comrade behind' his ass.

Damn them!

Jaune's hand brushed against the bark of a tree, his legs feet found purchase, and he half-dragged, half-pulled himself up the tree with more energy than was probably wise. It wouldn't do to be on the ground if more Grimm came, though given the pace the last pack had moved they'd caught a taste of something far darker then him.

 _Breathe._

The sting in his side wasn't the only reason Jaune narrowed his eyes as he took a look around. In the distance he could barely see three bullheads rise and fly away from smoke still rising in on the horizon. That smoke- the thick sort that only wet brush did when finally ignited, like with fire dust- matched his temper. Which was in no way helped by the massive bruise he could feel beneath the jerkin.

 _Hold._

That idiot's mace, even if it had saved him, was certainly not the softest thing to be struck by. He could feel the bruise blossoming already, and winced as he gingerly prodded it again with one finger. It was hard to breath and stung like anything, but experience told him nothing was broken. His ribs might not even be bruised, even if he most certainly was.

He would live. More than that, he could still move and shoot. So, he would keep on living too.

 _Let go._

Pain and other distractions left the body for a moment as Jaune considered signalling the retreating bullheads. Even if he wanted to- pulled out his new scroll or lit a flare- they probably wouldn't notice, and certainly wouldn't turn around if they did. Already he could see distant black clouds gather on the horizon. Not just even thicker rain clouds, but Nevermore. They had been dropped off so far and no further for a reason.

But even if that wasn't true- even if they could come back- calling them would be tantamount to failure. Asking for their help now would be begging for rescue.

Like he needed that. Like he needed that from the likes of them. He could survive the Grimm Lands on his own if he had to. He'd done it for years. He could walk back to Edge on foot if he wanted. Not that they'd care- fat chance they'd still be around a place they clearly detested- but he could. They couldn't. That was the difference between him and Beacon's best.

 _"I believe you are a backwoods hunter who knows how to shoot mindless and relatively harmless animals," Weiss admitted. "This may be a useful skill – indeed a necessary one out here where farmland is so scarce – but this does not qualify you to take part on an expedition in which lives are at stake. Trained professions – not amateur outdooorsmen – are the best chance for success this mission has."_

His temper simmered. Professionals? SDC hired professionals, at least. They came here, did their job, and left soon enough. They were usually polite about it. They rarely caused much trouble for their own workers, let alone others.

 _"And I thought the SDC was bad," Blake muttered. "Back home, we actually care for our people. It's not perfect, and racism divides us, but at least we don't pretend poverty is a choice. When people need help, we help them."_

Kingdom people? Kingdom brutes, was more like it. Always ready to use force to get their way. Willing to hurt people to 'save' them. Or just abandon them when it got inconvenient.

 _"We protect them from what we can, and we don't forget about them when they're inconvenient. Not like you people. Not like out here."_

In a few years, they'd probably never talk about it again.

No one would want to, if anyone still cared, about one failed rescue expedition in the Grimm Lands. Oh, someone would be sad… for a little while. But in time students would graduate, scholars would study more important things, and the fact that students had been all that was spared to save one of their own from the Grimmlands would be quietly and conveniently swept under the rug in favor of much more important things, like counting village idiots.

Bad for moral, dwelling on things like that. It might make people question the wisdom and benevolence of their dear leaders. Easier to forget past failures, lost Hunters, and who was to blame. No one wanted to remember that stuff.

Jaune's hand went to his sleeve, and touched the red bandana forever there.

He would make them remember.

A Beowolf that probably passed not too long ago howled in the distance, a helpful reminder of where he (still) was. The Grimmlands.

 _Breathe._

 _Hold._

 _Let go._

 _"You haven't saved anyone, have you?" the girl half-guessed, half accused. "You were probably the one who had to be saved – hiding up in a tree or something! That's it, isn't it?"_

…no.

He couldn't. He wouldn't. Not this, and not like this. Never saved anyone? Nothing more than a backwoods hunter? He'd show them- he'd show them all, by succeeding where they failed. Something they refused to do, something they gave up on so they could save themselves like the 'real' Hunters they were.

He'd save Lie Ren.

Uncle once said that the only real revenge against the Grimm was surviving. The way he figured it, that probably worked against Hunters too. If so, the only way to make it sweeter would be for more survival. Let them try to forget when one of their own walked amongst them. Let them deal with the awkward pauses and uncomfortable explanations of telling him why they gave up on him. Let them all live knowing they owed a debt to someone they considered beneath them.

Let them live knowing that he- a nobody backwoods hunter- had succeeded where oh-so-educated teams of the elite Beacon Academy had not just failed, but abandoned their mission and one of their own to the tender mercies of the Grimm.

Let him do something they'd all considered impossible - again - and bring life once thought lost back from the Grimmlands.

That is what would make him better than them, those wannabe Huntresses and 'real' Huntsmen, once and for all. That is how he'd return to Edge, head high and triumphant. And then maybe-

Just maybe-

She'd finally believe, let go of that childish fantasy, and come home again.

 _Breath. Hold…_

"You'll never be half the Huntress she was," Jaune whispered, touching his band and looking in the direction the Bullheads had flown off in.

"But you don't have to be."

 _Let go._

/-/

He found something interesting not too much later.

He'd been passing by a wet tree when something caught his eye, a little bit of colour at the base of the trunk He'd stopped, stopped down to its base, and looked close until he saw what he was looking for. A red fungus.

Red Man's Wort. More of a mould than anything, clinging to the juncture between roots and soil, and shown in school books around the Kingdom, or so he'd heard. Its own roots would form a network underneath, leaching off its larger cousin. It was a poisonous plant that could leave a man crippled by diarrhoea if he ate enough, and even kill a smaller child or pregnant woman.

But that was only if ingested. If you applied it to the skin- picked it up, crushed the fungus into a paste between fingers, and dabbed all over- the same poison which took lives could numb skin. It wouldn't heal anything, per see, but it could offer relief to sunburned- or bruised- skin. An all-natural painkiller when applied locally, but that wasn't what was interesting.

What was interesting was that most of this batch had recently been harvested.

There was still some left- enough for Jaune to use for his own relief- but not as much as there should if nature had consumed itself. But as he looked closer, other signs- or lack of signs- were clear. No sign of hair, but that might have been the rain. No scratches against the bark, or hoof prints in the muck, or mud all over the roots, to suggest an animal rolling around trying to apply it to its side.

Whatever had harvested this had plucked them. Neatly. And no Grimm with that kind of dexterity lived around here.

Up above, thunder crackled as the rain began to come down again. Monsoon season was here, which spelled all kinds of bad things. He'd known about it, of course, but the mission was supposed to be over today. Navigating in a storm would be hard enough without the Grimm being on high alert, driven into a frenzy by the huge fight that had just recently ended. Until they accepted that all the humans had gone, they'd still be stalking further south, at least until they went back to their dens to wait out the squall.

In a way that made things easier for him. Or at least safer. At least in this region, if you ignored all the other dangers rain storms could bring.

Free to move in the open, relatively, Jaune kept a look out for any more signs. The best bet would be to follow the path of least resistance, as that's where people naturally drifted when walking. Downhill, and through easy areas.

The trek down the ridge and towards the clearing was a slow and arduous one, made more so by the care necessitated by not by the Grimm as much as the rain. The fact was that the rain was turning the dirt to into a slippery slush beneath his feet. Where CRDL had leapt down the hill yesterday, he cautiously measured each step and did not slip at all. You couldn't afford to when it was only you. Get injured out here and there'd be no one to offer a helping hand, hence you couldn't afford to take the risk in the first place.

As the air became cooler and mist appeared before his mouth, he rubbed his hands together and tugged his leather jacket – still in one piece, thankfully – tighter around himself. Without a fire to warm his body, he instead kept himself going with fantasies of what he'd say to those Hunters once he got back to Edge. Maybe he'd have to travel to Vale to find them, but he'd do it. He'd make the whole sodding journey if he had to, and then burst into their classroom in the middle of class to tell them off. It would be a glorious moment – and it wouldn't only be CRDL and RWBY to apologise. He'd make all of those Hunters listen to what he had to say!

A howl split the air, closer than he'd have liked, close enough that he had to respond. _Fool_ , he admonished himself anyways. _You can't dwell on something like that here. Let it go for now. Think about it later._

Fantasies were better than fear, but arrogance was only a few steps above anger. Anger wasn't the worst of emotions, but it could be felt if someone- or something- was close enough or already alert.

He bit down on everything unimportant, even his lingering pain, and quickly looked around until he found a tree that would suffice. With more grace than any would have expected, he scaled up it, hands and feet finding footholds wherever they could. Once he was perched in a lower bough, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

 _Breathe,_ he whispered internally, drawing air into his lungs.

 _Hold_ , he echoed, doing such.

Pour all of your emotion into that breath. Take the fear, the pain, the anger, even those thoughts of home and love and everything else, and feed it into the breath like you would wood into a fire. Imagine them burning brightly as the flames take hold.

He did so, and felt his muscles slacken. And then, when it burnt bright...

 _Let it go…_

It was a soft, easy exhale, a mere whisper in the wind and stolen away just as quickly. His eyes opened, his irises a dark, calm, blue, and focused on the forest floor beneath him. Soon- within minutes- a black and white figure with a bone mask stalked into sight after bumbling through some bushes.

It was a Beowolf, large but not an alpha. It sniffed the grass, the bark, and then the air itself, though not as a dog might. The 'scent' it sought was something else entirely, already faint and fading. It seemed confused, even as Jaune's bow was prepped on his hip.

He did not reach for it. He didn't need to.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

No fear. No anger. No emotion. Just him, the forest, and a simple animal searching for food. Food that he was not. Food that the Beowolf would not find here, for there was none to be had.

He was a hunter. He was not prey. But to the Beowolf, he may as well have been part of the tree itself.

The Beowolf's snout rose, its lips peeling back as it snarled, catching a different scent on the air. With a soft whine, almost a whimper of apology, it went back into the bushes from which it came. Loping away in a feral rush, it's feet echoed a stampede into the distance, growing louder as it joined with others of its unnatural pack as they all moved south.

Jaune waited another minute still, gently closing his eyes and tilting his head, listening to the sounds of the forest. It was only when the silence returned, broken only by the rain, that he finally moved. His feet shifted on the bough and he fell the fifteen or so feet to the mossy floor, legs flexing as he landed, one hand falling flat to the ground between his legs.

Avoiding Grimm instead of fighting them… it was just another day on the Grimmlands, at least if you wanted there to be another one. Grimm weren't worth hunting. They didn't give meat or hide or even bone to speak of. It was almost appropriate that the bane of humanity left nothing beneficial in their passing. Even in dying they were nothing good for humanity.

He might have killed that Beowolf. He could easily have done so. It hadn't noticed him, and the shot was simple. But what would he have gained for it, and at what risk? The tiny chance he might miss, the possibility it might sense his lethal intent, and a larger chance his arrow would have snapped or broken as it died. A perfectly good arrow, even if not a special one, and for what? Satisfaction? The enjoyment of having proven his superiority over something?

Bah. Huntsman nonsense.

Safe once more, he made his way down into the valley, down where he knew fresh water would be, winding through troughs carved by mountain streams. Grimm had little use of water, more for cleaning then quenching their thirst, but that little use did still make streams slightly more dangerous than elsewhere. Still, it was a risk that often had to be made, and even more often worth it given the edible wildlife that did depend on such streams.

Including, when you got down to it, people. Jaune knelt down, fingers brushing an impression that certainly wasn't deer, and probably not a hoof or paw of any sort.

The Hunter?

Jaune looked around. The little streams meandered, but here they also meandered towards the side, towards a ridgeline. There might also be some caves down there to shelter in. Grimm were still a possibility, but most in this area had probably already headed south.

It was while he was making his way down and over a rocky outcrop that his eyes caught a brief flash of unnatural colour. He froze instinctively, ducking low, but it wasn't red like eyes, nor black or white like flesh and bone. In fact, it was green – which might not have seemed unusual in the forest were it not for the shade, far too bright and unusual for the flora in the area. He scanned the area warily, and only moved towards it when he was sure it was clear. The tuft of colour didn't move, and in fact appeared to be a scrap of cloth torn from something.

He rubbed it between his fingers. It was soft and warm, water-resistant in the rain and designed to shelter someone. It was a scrap of clothing.

But none of the people he had been with wore such a colour. Even Kalie's bandanna was darker, his fellow hunter knowing better than to come out here with something so bright strapped to her head. This was someone different.

Was he close?

Jaune paused and put down his ruck, reaching in for his new scroll. It was…

Quite clearly cracked, or worse, as the casing was all but broken apart and a built-in antenna broke off.

Jaune grimaced, just slightly, at the memory of dropping his ruck from the bullhead and for some reason believing Team CRDL would catch it.

It still turned on, though, so that was relief. And even if the screen's glass was cracked, whatever was behind it still worked. Hitting keys by memory as Team CRDL had taught him, Jaune activated the emergency transponder locator, hoping to find the missing Huntsman's.

A map, familiar enough that he knew where he was, popped up. Then, automatically, it began to zoom in, focusing on two labelled dots. One Team CRDL had told him was his location. The other must be the Huntsman's. According to this he was now relatively near to the area they'd picked up the distress beacon. He was close.

Now all he had to do was keep moving forward. Another ridge line to go, as always.

He was lucky, but not surprised, when he found footprints before he reached the top of this saddle of the ridgeline.

Luck had to do with the rain. The tracks he found were old - over a day at least - but hadn't washed away. The lack of surprise was from being in the right place. There, in the distance, he saw a break in the canopy that might have something to do with a crashed bullhead, but 'here' was the location of at least one of the emergency beacon readings. He made note of its grid coordinates earlier, and matched them to his map. It might be worth checking out before he left, for future salvage if nothing else.

Jaune put away his map and followed the tracks, ignoring the stitch in his sides as he did so. Some things Red Man's Wort couldn't help with. Without passion he cursed the Hunters, though he should have been hating the hill.

It wasn't a bad hill, though, not really. It never did anyone any harm. It was just muddy, slippery when wet, and too damn long. Jaune staggered after human-sized tracks, though, which themselves seemed to stagger towards the side of one slope in particular. Rain poured over an outcropping, but didn't flow further down the hill. That must have meant it poured into the hill instead.

Good. A cave, probably. Even if his mark wasn't here, it would at least be a good place to rest a moment, maybe wring out his socks. He made his way towards it, not allowing his excitement to show, let alone influence his pace. Calm and careful, one step at a time, and always aware of your surroundings.

That was the only way to survive for long, even if it made a short distance take three times as much as it should have. Fools rushed where hunters dared to tread. Taking shortcuts was easy. Dragging yourself out of the consequences when it went wrong wasn't. Uncle had told him that more than once before he'd learned it first-hand himself.

As he approached, the possibility of the target's absence seemed to diminish, and Jaune's eyes narrowed, taking in detail after detail. The trail, less prints but more broken twigs and the occasional rotation of mud, showed someone heading inside, but not venturing out again. What was more, there was a traveller's canteen, a cheap but effective metal one, balanced between two rocks with its uncorked lid aimed towards the sky. He was careful not to disturb the rain catcher, knowing it would make sound if he did.

There was a snare, too, off between two rocks where it would catch absolutely nothing, but it at least might have alerted the inhabitant to any stupid Grimm lumbering by, if the footsteps wouldn't have done that already.

He'd give points for effort. It was better than nothing.

As he paused at the entrance to the cave, he wondered what sights he might see within. Would the Hunter be alive and well? Would it be enough Cardin Winchester or Ruby Rose, set in their ways and unwilling to listen to a rube like him? Or would it be a body, a husk of one who had passed in isolation? The latter might have been the most macabre, but it was still a possibility he had to accept, if only so it didn't catch him by surprise. The Grimm were still eager to find him, after all.

Funny that they hadn't found this cave, for he could see no evidence of Grimm tracks. At the very least this would make a suitable den, although it was at the top rather than bottom of a ridgeline. Too much effort? Maybe, but there should have been something nearby, especially if there was a potentially wounded person nearby. Even if they were fine, they should at least have some negativity – be it fear, hunger, or just frustration at being stranded. For there to have been no Grimm…?

It was either lucky or strange, and Uncle claimed there was no such thing as luck. Only people who took advantage of unexpected opportunities.

It didn't matter, he supposed. He came here for a reason, and he'd do what he needed to do.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

Jaune stepped into the cave, and around the first corner. The floor went down, slope giving way to make-shift stairs into a large room. It was old- stalactites and stalagmites both, but it was also well lit. Holes along the side let in rain that covered much of the floor, but also light. Easily enough to see, casting the room in a soft glow.

It was that light that allowed him to see him. From his position at the top of the 'stairs', Jaune could see the entire room, but one patch of green stood out. It wasn't clean, but it was dry, drier than Jaune's own green hoodie at least, and it was on a boy kneeling on the floor. He was washing his hands in the cool clear water flowing in. The boy noticed him noticing him, and looked up.

Their eyes met, and for a moment neither spoke. The boy in green took him in. Jaune, for his part, was struck by just how pink the other boy's eyes were, and how calm and unafraid they seemed. This was the student of Beacon academy, lost and alone in the Grimm lands, without a hint of fear or desperation?

He was different. Jaune could tell instantly.

Or at least, he seemed different… but he would disappoint in time. They always did.

"You Lie Ren?" he asked, his voice gruffer than he really intended it to be, echoing in the dusty cavern.

"I am," he said, in a voice that was infinitely softer, infinitely more musical, and reminded him of just how different their lifestyles were. The city-boy stood, brushing his moist hands against his trouser leg and acting as if another human coming into your cave in the middle of Grimm-infested territory was an everyday occurrence. "And you are?" he asked.

"I'm Jaune Arc, and I'm here to rescue you."

He remembered to at least try and smile.

"It's going to be alright."

/-/

 _That was our first meeting, a moment I will remember for as long as I live, no matter how short that may be now. I, clean and composed and with barely a hint of my recent affliction. Him, soaked and sleepless and with a worn experience I could only begin to grasp. And then there was that name…_

 _I'll admit I was not impressed at first. He looked so weathered I wondered if I would have to rescue him instead. I would, eventually. Many times, and after many tribulations, but no more than he would save me. He was not an easy man to like, not even then, as second, third, and fourth impressions would make clear. It took time to understand him, and even longer to care._

 _But I must confess, in that moment - for just a moment - I felt… if not safe, at least no longer alone._

 _-The Diary of Lie Ren_

* * *

 **CF's Notes:**

* * *

 **Congratulations! After five chapters and ten weeks, we've completed the first section of A Hunter or Something. Tutorial arc, really. Only another... several... dozen... to go!**

 **(Chapters, not arcs. Though depending on how you define them...)**

 **This was the arc I had the most direct hand in writing, having already written most of it, and it probably shows. Hopeful it shows in a good way- or at least in a way that makes you feel something you liked. If not, rest assured that Coeur has the reigns for the rest of it. There are key arcs and major scenes to look forward to (well, I'll look forward to. Some of you might not!), but even I'm looking forward to seeing how Coeur gets there.**

 **Looking back at this arc, we've made some progress in getting used to the sort of story that HoS will be. We've had laughs. We had thrills. We even introduced some new characters, and didn't horribly affect most of them! Add some world-building and atypical character dynamics, and I think we're on our way to good times. Or at least I think things are looking up, but the real story starts now.**

 **This story probably won't be what you're used to. It certainly won't be the usual RWBY fanfic fare, or even a Coeur-work. After all, I heard from a well-placed source that Headmaster Ozpin might be... competent. Le horror. But, if you're willing to take the risk of a slow-burn character-driven story, there might be something good here.**

 **Thoughts and reviews are appreciated, of course, as are tvtrope contributions and other shameless self-promoting sell-outs.**

 **(We don't have a story image yet! Just saying!)**

 **Cheers,**

 **C.F.**

 **p.s.: Also, please enjoy the following little world trivia thing below. Maybe it will become a thing, but... true story, this story once started as a sort of 'wilderness survival guide' fic. Call this a lingering remnant.**

 **(Please imagine little chibi Ren and Jaune giving a post-credits presentation for all the good listeners who pay attention through the end. And, who knows, maybe someday someone might write them up as a 'Chibi' skit.)**

* * *

 **World of HoS Trivia: Chapter 5**

* * *

 **"The Golden Hour": In emergency medicine, the golden hour- the first hour after severe injury- is the ideal time for first responders to reach patients because medical intervention is most likely to save someone's life within that period. After the first hour, the chances for survival can quickly diminish.**

 **"The Golden 72" is a derivative of that, usually used for search and rescue work, where most people who survive being reported lost are found within the first three days of being lost. This time limit is because of dehydration and assumes a lack of clean water, as while the typical person can survive almost a week without food it's hard to last three days without water, especially if you're injured. Having enough water to await rescue is the single most important factor of survival in the majority of wilderness survival cases, and the cleaner the better.**

 **This is why Ren set up a canteen outside the cave, to collect rain water, rather than drink the cave run-off water he was already cleaning himself in. Dirty water is better than no water, but clean water is best!**

 **And now you know.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 18th November**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	6. Chapter 6

**Welcome to the first main arc of HoS. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

Ren was relieved

Though he kept it from showing on his face, and felt it less than others might, he couldn't help but admit that his shoulders relaxed a little at realising the entrant to his cave was human and not some wandering Grimm. Other aspects of the figure's attire and posture reinforced that feeling, from the rough and ready clothing to the intricate weapon – clearly mechashift of some kind – on his back. Despite being his own age, the other boy's eyes were guarded and wary, instantly reminding him of Huntsmen he'd seen before.

And then there was that name…

"It's good to meet you," Ren said, feeling that despite the rough situation, some degree of politeness was required. "Are the others around, or do we need to call for them?"

"Don't bother. There's nobody else," the man, Jaune, said brusquely.

Ren's brow creased. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that there isn't anyone else. We're on our own."

"But reinforcements-"

"Ain't coming. I'm all you've got." The scruffy young man brushed past him, moving to a rock and taking a moment to rest on it as he put down his ruck. "There were others, but they turned and ran after running into the Grimm. I'm the only one who stayed."

Worry wormed its way through him, but was quickly washed away not only by discipline, but deliberate effort. A sense of calm replaced anything else. "Who left?" he asked, almost detached. "Who were you with?"

"Your friends from Beacon," Jaune said, and was it his imagination, or was there a hint of vindictiveness there? "Team CRDL."

Ren let out a breath he hadn't quite been holding. CRDL… wasn't who he had been expecting, but it wasn't a surprise either. Cardin had never been the best of their class, and as surprising as it was to hear he came it wasn't hard to imagine him failing.

It was a lot easier than believing his own team had given up.

"They're not my friends," Ren said, calmly looking his rescuer straight in the eye.

"They're not my friends either," Jaune returned, rubbing his side near his ribs. "Didn't make what they did any less of a dick move."

Ren had no response for that, and didn't say anything. After it became clear he wouldn't, the more experienced Hunter sighed and moved on.

"Alright," Jaune said, changing track. "You're clearly not dying, so that's a plus. Since nobody else is coming, there's no point staying here either. Before we get moving, let's take stock. How long have you been here, and what've you got?"

"A little more than two days in this cave," Ren replied, recognising and responding to the business-like attitude. "As for supplies, not much I'm afraid. I didn't have time to grab much before the pilot told me to jump."

He emptied his pockets and laid out what he had before him. His scroll was in one piece, though obviously drained of battery by now. The rest seemed trivial. A few flares, his Stormflowers and some spare ammo. Aside from the clothes on his back, that's all he had… aside from one little book he'd been handed before he leapt.

Jaune Arc looked up at him, clearly unimpressed. "That's it? Didn't you grab anything else? Don't tell me you've sitting in this cave the last two days doing nothing but go hungry."

Ren didn't let himself be affected by the obvious disapproval. "I have water in a canteen outside, but just finished the last of the emergency rations before you arrived," he said, indicating a tidy pile of neatly folded food wrappers. Nutrient bars, by the look of them.

Jaune Arc gave him a hard look. "You didn't ration it?"

Ren caught the clear frustration in the blonde's voice, but didn't respond to it. "I followed the recommended daily calorie intake the survival manuals recommend," he said. "It said to eat little but often to keep my strength up."

Jaune looked at him like he was speaking Mistrali, before shaking his head in clear disgust.

"Stupid," Jaune growled, and Ren had the feeling it was aimed less at him and more at the book. "Things like that aren't worth the paper they're printed on. They're meant for idiots lost in the woods, not the Grimmlands, and all they ever tell you is how to stay comfortable for the three days you'll get for rescue. After that, they're useless."

Was it really so bad? Ren didn't know enough to disagree, and so said nothing. His eyes fell to the small booklet, passed to him by the pilot before he leapt. He'd read it in his spare time. There'd been plenty of free time, and who knew? Maybe something in it would save his life.

At least it'd seemed to match up with some of the more impressive tales Port had given, if you looked past the bombast for an actual lesson.

To his relief, the Jaune Arc didn't comment on any further on it, but instead drew out a water-proofed map from his jacket, laying it down on the rock so that Ren could see. The more experienced man gestured for Ren to come closer, and so he did.

"If you didn't know already, we're here," Jaune Arc said, indicating a point on the map filled with contours and curves. "Do you know where 'here' is?"

Ren took a quick glance at the map. "The Lunar Cry Mountains?" he half-read, half-asked.

"The foothills, at least," Jaune said. "But more than that, we're in the Grimmlands. Not the frontier, not the old frontier, but the honest-to-god Grimmlands. No King has ruled these lands since before Vale," he claimed. The weary and ragged man looked at Ren. "It's dangerous here, even for me."

"Then what's our first step?" Ren asked, deferring to the more experienced peer.

"We leave," Jaune said simply. "Get out of the Grimmlands, as fast as possible. When we're somewhere safer, we can look at getting you back to civilization. Your friends will be long gone by then, but at least you'll be alive until you reach them."

Ren frowned, just slightly. "How long will that take?" he asked.

"Best case? Four days," Jaune said. "Probably more in this weather. Expect a week at least."

"A week?!" Ren reacted. That was almost twice as long! "That's too long! Classes resume next week and my team-"

Jaune looked at him, a silent look of disbelief that made Ren color. With a deep breath, and a bit of effort, Ren calmed himself.

"A week is too long. Where's the closest settlement?" he asked. "I need to contact my team at the earliest opportunity."

His opposite shook his head. "It's not that easy. We're on the north end of a whole lot of Grimm, bad enough that the bullheads flew around rather than straight over. There's some real big Grimm amongst them too. Grimmlands here expanded since the last time anyone checked 'em."

South, then.

"I can deal with the Grimm," Ren claimed. He was, if anything, uniquely suited for this kind of situation. "Maybe if we skirt around, and called for help then…"

"Your scroll able to call for help for the next week?" Jaune asked bluntly, reaching into his pack for his own. "Because I don't think mine will," he said, placing it out for Ren to view.

It was… cracked would be an understatement. Broken was probably better. The screen aside, the most important part- the reception antenna that could serve as an emergency transmitter in a pinch- was broken clear off, and not in a way that they could simply salvage the part from Ren's scroll.

No way they'd be calling for help with that.

"What happened?" he asked. "Was it the Grimm?"

The other man snorted. "Hardly. You can thank your friends for that. That would have been my back if I'd trusted them."

Ren frowned at the description again, but ignored it. It wasn't as important as getting back.

"I have flares. If we can just get near enough to be seen…"

"Bullheads flew around rather than through for a reason. Even if they hadn't the monsoon's going to keep them grounded until it lets up. I'm not going to take us deeper in just so you can launch a flare no one around will see. By the time anything can fly, we can be out of the Grimmlands already."

"Alright," Ren conceded.

"Alright?" Jaune repeated in surprise, almost like he'd expected an argument.

"It's not that I agree or not, but that I don't know enough as it is," he admitted, shrugging weakly. It was best to trust the more experienced Hunter. "I'm out of my element. You're not. If you think that's the best bet, it probably is."

"Heh," Jaune shot him an almost-friendly smile, the first sign of one he'd seen on the rugged and dirt-smeared huntsman's face. "Maybe you're not as dumb as your friends after all. It's good to see someone with a little common sense. You ready to follow my lead?"

Ren nodded, or maybe shrugged.

"Why not? She always said you were the best Huntsman on the frontier."

Jaune froze, and just like that things suddenly didn't look quite so good.

/-/

Breathe. Hold. Resist the urge to snap.

And then let it all go…

He should have known it would be just as bad as everything else. Really, this was what he got for daring to think otherwise in the first place. You could rely on people for a lot of things, like Kalie to listen when you spoke, or for Dogpatch's daughter to be ready with a smile if you ever needed one. You could also count on Hunters to stop listening to a damn word you said once they figured out you weren't one of their own.

"Are you sure we can't take the southern route?" his `companion` asked.

"Yes," Jaune replied for what felt like the tenth time. It probably was. "I've already told you, the area is crawling with Grimm." Among other things, and other reasons, none of which should matter more than that.

"I can handle the Grimm."

Jaune bit back on his anger, whispering his mantra under his breath and feeling the frustration drift away. Fight, fight, fight. That was all their kind ever thought of. The fact he was questioning the plan at all when he'd accepted it earlier only went to show how little the guy thought of a country hick like him. The plan had been fine when city-boy thought a Huntsman had come up with it. Now it suddenly wasn't. Three guesses as to why.

As for the Grimm, did the idiot think he was afraid of them or something? Maybe he just thought a civilian would have a different definition of the phrase "crawling with Grimm" than a Huntsman would. Did he think he'd gone skittish because saw two or three beowolves?

"We can't go south," Jaune repeated, hoping an explanation might convince the Huntsman. "Your friends didn't last a day just looking for you. Further south it's even worse, and that was before all your friends drove the Grimm into a frenzy. The whole area is teeming with Grimm, and they're not in a good mood. I should know," he added, scowling. "I was there."

"You also got out," Ren said. "Doesn't that mean we could get back through?"

'Not with you,' Jaune wanted to say. He didn't, because that would almost certainly be challenged, and he didn't need the argument.

"I got out because I was careful," he hissed instead. "Even I'd have a hard time getting through there now. Besides, we can't even carry the supplies for how long it would take."

"What if we gathered more?"

"Great idea! Why didn't I think of that?" Jaune asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I guess I'll just go and hunt us a feast along the way, and hope that Mouk doesn't mind that I'm poaching in his forest. Again!"

"Mouk?" Ren asked, but was ignored.

"Then maybe make a cookout of it! Roast some meat, gather some greens, and we can have a great meal around the fire that absolutely no Grimm around will be the slightest bit curious about! Maybe if they do come by, they'll be in the mood for something other than a side of human!"

Lie Ren didn't respond to his mockery, as well as he didn't. Jaune sighed, but not to calm himself. There wasn't enough passion behind the words to register anyways, and something felt off. The emotion behind the sarcasm had just… it wasn't there anymore. It was like it had slipped away, like water over a smooth stone. It wasn't like he'd been upset enough to be considered 'negative' in the first place, but still…

This partnership thing really wasn't working out. Lie Ren didn't trust him, and he didn't trust the Lie either.

Sure, Huntsman had done well enough so far to stay calm and not draw any Grimm. That already made him better than Cardin. On the other hand, he was also as stubborn as Cardin, even if he wasn't nearly as brash about it.

"The south route isn't an option," Jaune repeated once again. "Worry about getting out of the Grimmlands first. Even without the other Grimm, Mouk has set up his territory over there, and neither of us wants to deal with him if we don't have to."

"You said that name again. Who's Mouk?"

"I'll explain when we set up camp. For now, it's a big Ursa."

"I've fought Ursa before. You can trust me to take one out."

Jaune honestly laughed, though the feeling of mirth also slipped away as easily as the earlier sarcasm.

"Not like this, you haven't," he said. "You don't 'take out' Mouk any more than you'd take out a mountain. Team CRDL tried, and you can't see how well that worked because they aren't here anymore." He shook his head. "I don't care if you could beat all of Team CRDL yourself. I don't even care if you can beat Mouk. It wouldn't matter. Just one mistake- just Mouk seeing us- means we'd have every single Grimm in his domain after us."

"What if he didn't see us?"

Jaune tried not to let out a growl of frustration. That was surprisingly easy, since at the moment it felt like it might have been harder to simply _be_ frustrated. Maybe he was too tired for frustration, and in the absence of it he was simply blunt and honest.

"Eight Beacon Hunters ran away and left you behind rather than stand up to him. Do you really think you're better than all of them combined?" Granted, Jaune didn't know all eight had ran away, or even survived, but…

But, strangely, that seemed to work... maybe. Lie Ren's pink eyes looked away, but only so they could look south. Jaune could feel his frustration return. He wasn't used to having to justify each and every little decision he made out here.

"Alright," Ren said, but with none of the deference he'd had back in the cage. "Still, if there was a way for us to get some more supplies, would you want to?"

Jaune crossed his arms, suspecting something.

"I wouldn't say no," Jaune said cautiously. He didn't feel particularly optimistic, since if it were any easy prospects Ren should have had said supplies already. Still, there was no denying that they needed them. He had some packaged food of his own, but he'd keep it hidden from the other teen for now to better ration it. Campfires were out for now, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be hunting along the way out of the Grimmlands. It would be hard enough to keep them both fed as-was. It wouldn't help if a city-boy turned his nose up at more basic cuisine.

Still, if supplies were on offer…

"When the Bullhead was attacked, I didn't have time to grab everything aboard before I had to jump. I couldn't go looking since I had to hole up, but if we're lucky… we could find not just food, but other things too."

"True," Jaune admitted. The Grimm would certainly have investigated, but they wouldn't bother eating human food, or human equipment. Metal shards tended not to go down well, no matter how much blood you had to wash it all down with.

"That was almost three days ago. The Grimm should have left by now."

"Also true… and they should have been drawn off by the disturbance we caused in the valleys." He looked back in that direction, idly wondering if that was why they'd been relatively unaccosted so far. If so, it was a rare stroke of fortune. "How far away did you think it was again?"

"I'm not sure, but it can't be that much. An hour, maybe two. That's all."

That was all, huh? Two hours could mean a lot on foot, and last even longer in weather like this. City-boy probably wasn't even factoring in the rain, or walking through Grimmlands, so it was probably closer to three or four. That could be anywhere from half a day to a full day's diversion, depending how out of the way it was.

Still, travelling like this was always a case of risk and time management. In this case, the potential gains would far outweigh the risk of it being a waste of time. If the Bullhead had gone up in flames, the food would be lost, but he figured if that were the case, they might still be able to salvage something.

Besides, there were always other things to check when it came to downed bullheads.

"Alright," Jaune agreed.

"Alright?" Ren echoed, sounding - dare he say it – just a little smug.

"Alright," Jaune echoed. "It sounds like a good plan, and you could use some more supplies." He gave a pointed look to the canteen and flares in Ren's hands and pockets, and the general lack of anything useful other than pockets to put them in. "At the very least it might have some medical bags. Which direction was it in again?"

Ren pointed, looking not-so-subtly pleased with himself. Jaune realised why instantly, and bit down on his frustration.

It was to the south.

/-/

Ren knew his companion didn't like him. It was clear in every word he said, the clipped manner in which he said it, and the irritated looks he received every now and then, whenever Jaune thought he wasn't watching. He was, of course. He always watched. It was the best way to learn about someone and what they thought. For instance, he knew Jaune was upset at the idea of crossing back through the territory he'd already ventured. The reason was obvious, and perfectly understandable. He was afraid of the Grimm.

That was fine, of course. There were few enough people in the world who weren't, and the hunter had done well to manage himself long enough to find Ren, let alone survive out here as he was. For someone who had no Huntsman training and likely no aura to speak of, it was an absolute miracle – a feat of incredible luck.

But that luck might soon turn as dry as Ren was wet.

 _Will I be able to protect both him and myself?_ Ren wondered, eyeing his silent companion through the constant drizzle. It was a worrying question. The Grimm had been kept away so far, mostly due to his efforts, but he was worried that might change if they stumbled on one. The rain was already limiting their visibility, and their ability to hear. That was no doubt helping them with Grimm, but would make it harder for them as well. Panic could set in the best of men, and this was no time for the hunter to run away blindly in the rain, least of all when Ren was struggling with his own fatigue and hunger. Three days on limited rations had not helped him much, and called to mind darker times

Such miserable memories might have attracted the Grimm, but were quickly washed away like oil atop water. They found no foothold and were forgotten.

He would just need to keep his eyes open and prepare to fight if needed, he decided. While Jaune might have been wary of the southern pass, Ren wasn't sure the alternative was any less risky. At times like this, moving closer to civilisation was the goal. Jaune's intended route would move them further away from it. This was for the best. All his training said so. They had to do things by the book, not risk things on winging it.

"I see something ahead," Jaune suddenly whispered, drawing Ren's attention. He strained his eyes for signs of grey or black, either the hull – burned out or not – against the dripping greenery of the forest.

"I don't see anything."

The hunter sighed. "Why am I not surprised?" he muttered, before pointing up. "The trees ahead had parts of their canopy torn off." He pointed, indicating tree limbs clearly torn off, which Ren could only see after squinting through the drizzle coming down through the canopy. "Nevermore avoid flying through canopy this thick, but something broke that off and it sure wasn't the local wildlife. You can also see the sky through there," he pointed to another hole in the leaves. "The plants here fight for sunlight, so trees wouldn't leave that naturally."

"You think it might be the Bullhead?" Ren asked, catching on quickly. Now that the signs had been pointed out, they felt obvious, and he saw a few other cases of damage leading off in the direction they'd been travelling. Miraculously, no trees had been brought down, which suggested the pilot had been trying to duck and weave between them.

Ren remembered the pilot telling him he was going to try to lose the Nevermore. He hadn't had time to ask how.

"It might be. We should be careful, though. This is too close to where the idiots I was with before ended up fighting."

"Cardin?"

"And his merry band of Beacon bastards," Jaune answered, as dismissive as ever. Ren didn't rise to the insult, thinking it was appropriate in this case. "It was like they were trying to attract the Grimm with how nervous they were, and how much noise they were making."

None of which was probably their fault, Ren imagined. Three out of four members of that team wore heavier armour, and they were all of them focused on more direct means of combat. He could understand why Jaune would be nervous about such things, of course. As a civilian without aura, he had no real means of protecting himself aside from a lucky shot from his bow. The loud and raucous members of Team CRDL must have been a terrifying proposition. They could fight the Grimm easily enough, but it would only take one lucky Nevermore to put Jaune in danger.

"I'm not like them," he promised, hoping to keep the other man calm. "You don't have to worry."

Jaune shot him a look that could be best described as unconvinced, but Ren let it go. It was clear he was used to trusting himself and only himself, and words would have little effect. It was enough that he was already helping to protect the civilian in his own way, even if he might never know it. Not the most impressive demonstration by someone talked up so much, but perhaps it was for the best.

Whatever faults he had, one thing Ren would admit was that Jaune knew how to move silently. He was light-footed himself, especially compared to the others of Team JNPR and RWBY, but Jaune put that to shame, managing a level of haste and stealth that impressed even him. He made more noise trying to keep up, but he was quiet enough that the hunter didn't complain.

"I take it stealth is your forte," Ren said, if only to allow some conversation to distract from the rain. He kept his voice low, of course, and after a brief glare, the hunter replied.

"Animals are skittish, even in the Grimmlands. You learn to be quiet."

"And does that work for the Grimm, as well?"

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

He nodded, conceding the point. "I'm surprised you were able to make it through in the past on just that. When it comes to Grimm, the old adage of `you can run but you can't hide` is usually true."

"For normal people, perhaps. I'm a hunter."

But not a Huntsman, Ren thought. He'd made that mistake already, and nearly had his head bitten off for it. "What is the difference?" he asked instead.

Jaune looked at him, but sensing no scorn answered civilly enough. "Most people see the Grimm as the ultimate predators. It's us against the world, and Grimm mean death. They're afraid, and the sight of the Grimm makes it even worse. They draw the things like moths to a flame."

"And hunters are different?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"We're the hunters, not the hunted. We stalk our quarry, and then brings them down as efficiently as possible. No waste, no dramatics, just the hunt and the kill – and always for the right cause. Food, fur, bone… never sport. We follow our code."

He wasn't sure he understood. "And that means the Grimm don't care about you?"

"It means they struggle to find me," Jaune said, eyes focused ahead. "I'm the predator, not the prey. Grimm go after the latter."

Prey – a word that denoted the hierarchy between creatures, particularly on the food chain. Ren caught the reference, and understood it after a second's thought. The average person considered themselves to be prey for the Grimm, and so reacted like any prey animal would in the wild, running and cowering in fear, or trying to hide away in a burrow. The Grimm sought out such emotions, however, following them with more accuracy than any scent or sound.

It was an interesting philosophy, but he wasn't sure how far he believed it. One couldn't simply turn off their fear, let alone change thousands of years of cultural history at the drop of a hat. Similarly, Jaune had already expressed fear over the Grimm, hence his determination to avoid the Southern Pass.

 _Bravado, perhaps?_ He wondered. _It might have its place, since even false arrogance is preferable to terror when trying to avoid a Beowolf. If he is trying to bolster his confidence, and mine, with such words, then it might be a method of controlling his panic._

In that regard, he shouldn't question it overmuch. Doubt would only draw him into question, and that might cause a crack in the Hunter's confidence.

"I see," he said, hiding a small smile that threatened to rise despite the rain. "Neither of us are prey here, then."

It was best to play along.

His companion nodded. "Let's hope that continues-" He paused, voice cutting off. Ren knew something was wrong instantly, for Jaune lowered, knees bending as though ready to run at any moment. He strained his own ears but heard nothing.

"What is-?"

Jaune slashed a hand before him, the universal sound for silence, and Ren ended his words immediately. Even if he was the Huntsman, Jaune had proven himself when it came to tracking and awareness.

Cautiously, Ren crept his way over to stand beside the man. He wanted desperately to speak but refrained, holding even his breath in lest it distract the man.

"Down," Jaune whispered, his voice so incredibly low that for a second he thought he might have imagined it. "Get down," he repeated. "Slowly." He followed the words with action and example, gently crouching, and then pressing himself down into the mud beneath some brush.

After a brief moment of hesitation Ren did the same, emulating the other as best he could and ignoring the distaste of muddying his wet but otherwise clean clothes. After a second or two, it was just the two of them, faces close together and hands pressed down against the ground. With bushes on either side of them, they were well-hidden, but the position wasn't a good one should it come to combat. He would be all but defenseless.

"What is it?" Ren whispered.

Jaune's eyes were firm, but also cautious. "He's here."

"Who?"

"Mouk."

The Ursa? From what he understood it was a large specimen, but that was no reason for such a delay. His hand fell into his sleeve, gripping one of his weapons and drawing it out. Jaune noticed, and quickly shook his head.

 _It's fine,_ Ren mouthed. Now that he concentrated, he could hear the tell-tale sound of heavy breathing approaching – the sound of an Ursa. He tensed his muscles and prepared. An ambush would be a quick and effective way to end this, and while his position laid flat wasn't optimal, he could adapt. With a quiet breath, he narrowed his eyes and readied himself, looking a little further out.

There, down the hill - well down the valley, at the base of a hill - was an Ursa that might have been above medium size.

Ren restrained a sigh. Really? This was the legendary Mouk? Maybe it was a little bit bigger than the ones in the Emerald Forest, but it didn't even have the spikes of an Ursa Major.

"That's it? That's the _great_ Mouk?" he whispered, sarcasm slipping in.

Jaune didn't seem to notice, looking forward with a laser-focus. "Yeah," he whispered back.

Ren couldn't believe it. Even out here, there had to be bigger Grimm. Older at the very least. Something more formidable than this cub.

Was his missing something? Were the bushes blocking his sight of the real threat?

"The one right there? At the base of the hill?" Ren tried to specify.

"What hill?"

Ren turned back to point out the obvious… and saw the forest instead of the trees when some of those trees snapped like twigs in the face of an unstoppable force.

Mouk stirred.

It… It was an Ursa… but only in the same foolish way one might call a mansion a house. The forest concealed most of it, but beyond the black mass in the forest saw a snout – as large as a Bullhead itself, and poking through the tree canopy above and ahead of them. It's giant nose, the size of a car at least, hovered several meters off the ground, and when it inhaled, the top of the trees bent towards it, as if they were being pulled away.

Stormflower slipped from his nerveless fingers. This… It wasn't possible. This was no Ursa, nor even a Goliath. It was bigger than even that, with a mask the size of a small house, and he could only see its nose and a brief expanse of its face. Terrible scratches could be seen over the visible right eye socket, the eye itself sealed shut and scarred over with melted skin a thick tar in colour.

What could he even hope to do? If he tried his hardest he might be able to reach its nose – but then what? Did he stab it?

Would his bullets even pierce deep enough into its skin to draw blood? Would his blades even scratch its mask?

His heart hammered in his chest. With a loud grunt that rattled his bones, the snout turned in their direction, almost seeming to home in on them with unerring accuracy. They had to move. They had to run! He made to do so, pushing down with one hand – only to gasp as another pushed down on the back of his head, slamming his face into the sticky wet mud.

Mouk froze.

Ren did, too, paralyzed by fear.

"Calm," Jaune hissed, his mouth so close to Ren's ear he could feel his breath. "Stay calm."

In the face of that? How could he-

Wait, the creature was blind! The eye that was scarred over couldn't see them, and it only turned in their direction once he'd panicked. Swallowing his fear, he focused on his body, drawing his aura close around him. The fear he'd felt a second earlier washed away, leaving nothing behind but an empty, sterile hole where his emotions had once been. Even his eyes dulled as the familiar feeling took over, and his muscles relaxed

The monstrous Grimm snorted and snarled, its nose twisting in their general direction, but with less certainty, less direction. Beneath it the small Ursa- most certainly not Mouk- looked agitated, and sniffed the ground intently. Being upwind, it was far too far away to find anything. As the seconds ticked by, Jaune's hand loosened on the back of his head, trusting Ren to stay calm.

If it weren't for his Semblance, he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

And that brought another shock. In that moment of shock and horror, he'd let slip his control – allowing his emotions to show. While he'd recovered quickly, he hadn't thought to put it back over his companion. Concerned, he looked up to see how the hunter was taking it.

Jaune's lips were thin, his eyes thinner, focused on the force that could have devoured them and a portion of the land about them in a single bite. But while his knuckles gripped the ground tightly, they weren't white. The Hunter barely moved, and instead took long and slow breaths, letting each go after a near-silent exhale.

The beast chuffed and snuffled, but eventually lost interest and made to leave – not on two legs, but four, and yet still easily rising above the canopy. As Mouk departed in giant steps, the mini-Ursa behind loped after, running just to keep up with the massive beast's steady steps.

Only as it left, in the middle of a valley with ridgelines on either side, Ren could finally get a true feeling for its size. Only its haunches could be seen above the already tall tree line, but even then, it was beyond anything he'd ever seen before. Beyond anything he'd ever heard of. When it lumbered away, he heard faint sounds in the distance. The Ursa was so gargantuan that its footsteps echoed, even as it brushed past trees and no doubt knocked some over. Only the most inopportune conditions, or the most distracted individuals, could have been caught unawares by this thing.

The silence it left behind was tense. Jaune moved back, pushing up into a crouch and letting out another long breath. Ren's was less controlled and more an explosive sigh of relief.

"What was that?" he gasped.

"Mouk," Jaune answered. "Duke of the Lunar Mountains – the Moon Ursa."

"It has a name!?" Ren gasped, forgetting in the moment that he'd already known. "Why does it have a name? And why Mouk?"

"Because it deserves one, and Big Bastard was already taken," Jaune said, standing and wiping down his pant legs. "I'll explain more later. Come on, we should get a move on. The Bullhead must be close. I wonder if it was that he was looking for."

Ren could only stare at the man, still trying to process not only what he'd seen, but how it slotted into his understanding of the world at large. Grimm did not grow that large. They simply didn't. Everything he knew, everything he'd read, would have called such a thing an impossibility. Everyone knew the Kingdoms would have culled such monsters before they could reach an age and size that they could threaten the Kingdom walls. And yet there it had been – as undeniable as the sun and moon themselves.

What he understood even less was the other man's reaction. Caution, yes, concern, undoubtedly, but fear? There was none on his face. Instead there was a grim determination that spoke of something far scarier.

"This isn't the first time you've seen that… thing," Ren realized.

"Mouk? Ran into him last night with your friends, but I've seen him a few times before, as well." He shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. Instead, seeing Ren still too shocked to move, he extended a hand to help him up.

"That thing lives around here?" Ren asked.

"He's the Duke for a reason. His territory is normally a little ways south, but it looks like he's expanded it since. Recently too, or else we would have seen more signs of his passing."

He paused, and narrowed his eyes as he looked in the distance Mouk had trod off in. A bit of rain ran down his face, but that didn't seem to be the cause of his creased brow.

"This… might be a bit inconvenient."

Ren tried not to scoff, or laugh, at the understatement.

"Inconvenient? Try impossible! How do people live out here if something like that is nearby?"

"They… don't. This is the Grimmlands, remember?" Jaune said, hauling Ren up and turning away. "This is Mouk's domain. No one lives here without his permission, and he's not the most forgiving lord when it comes to trespassers."

Jaune strode on as though the encounter hadn't been an issue, but it took Ren a second to gather his legs and chase after. "Still, outside his lands the Grimm out here are nothing special, and he almost never leaves the valleys. Back before the frontier out here was abandoned, the best games and herbs could be poached from his lands, and you could usually get through if you knew the trick. That was a while ago, though," Jaune waved off. "Now, though… he's riled up. Probably from yesterday, or even your crash landing. He's up and roaming, and that's not something I want to deal with."

"Is that…" Ren paused to gather himself. "Is he the reason you didn't want us to take the southern path?"

Jaune avoided his gaze for a moment, gritting his teeth in obvious reluctance, before nodding.

"He's _a_ reason. The rest of the Grimm in his domain are no joke either, and if any of them raised an alarm he'd come running. It usually not hard to tell when you're in his territory - just look for the paths of broken trees - but he'll run for leagues if he needs to. That's what my Uncle always said, at least."

Leagues? It probably wouldn't take him long to arrive either. Ren tried to imagine how many meters each stride from such a large Ursa would be… and shivered. This was no slow monster they could rush past and leave behind. It certainly wasn't something to fight. Which left… sneaking? Not just past the moving mountain, but everything else? Ren looked back in the direction it had left. Mountain valleys, or foot hills, further than the eye could see. Each ridge a small hide to cross. Each barrier a mere dozen steps for… that thing. And as big as it was, the hills were even taller, meaning that it could be in the next valley and you'd never know unless you heard… or it peeked over.

Ridgelines might have been an obstacle to most Grimm. This one would barely be slowed. The path to the south was closed… and as much as he hated to admit it, Jaune had warned him.

He'd simply failed to heed it, dismissing such thoughts of a Grimm with a name as silly rural fantasy. But who could blame him, coming to face… _that_?

 _I'm still the Huntsman,_ Ren reminded himself. _It's still my responsibility to save us both. I can't lose control now._

He could still salvage this. They could still make good time getting back. Jaune's experience would be more important than he thought, if it let him remain calm about this sort of thing. If he really knew the borders of Mouk's territory, then they could still go around it to go south. It would be more of a detour than he wanted, but it wouldn't be impossible. He could accept a buffer between him and Mouk.

Maybe that'd been Jaune's plan from the start. Avoid the Grimm at all cost. In this particular case, he could accept the hunter's point… even if it was from a civilian's sense of self-preservation. Just because it wasn't a result of training didn't mean it was wrong.

"Hey, city-boy, you coming?" Jaune called from a bit head, looking back. He looked as irritated as ever, impatient but not afraid. "Your bullhead can't be far now."

"Understood," Ren returned, jogging to catch up. As he did he centred himself, extending his calm to himself and to his guide. Jaune kept frowning for a moment, but the slightest negative expression slide from his face. Soon Jaune turned, taking lead, or at least thinking he was leading.

Ren watched carefully, both his guide and for any Grimm, and stretched his sense of serenity to encompass them both. He'd need his guide safe and sound if he was to guide him back. He'd need Jaune's experience to know the exact borders of Mouk's domain, and when to head south. And for that, he'd need to protect his guide with everything he had.

Even as his right eyelid wanted to close- even as his focus strained at the extension- he'd be calm enough for both of them, to stay safe in these Grimm lands. Mouk was just an obstacle, not the end of the road. Obstacles could be bypassed. He could still get them back safe if he made the right calls.

 _I have to. I'm the Huntsman. It's up to me whether we survive or not._

He looked at the distance, beyond any massive Grimm and towards those he knew were waiting.

 _Wait for me, everyone. I'll be back as soon as I can._

/-/

When Jaune had said it wasn't much further, Ren had assumed that meant they were close. Instead it took another half-hour to find the fallen Bullhead, rain keeping up all the while.

They weren't moving as fast as Ren would have liked to. Much of that time was spent creeping and working their way through dense forest and uneven terrain, and for once Ren made no attempt to hurry his companion. After the near-encounter with Mouk, he was a bit more willing to go at Jaune's pace. He was all too aware that too much noise and attention might summon Mouk once more. Eventually, however, they neared a clear break in the canopy, and Jaune cursed angrily behind a bush.

"It's compromised," he whispered. "We should fall back."

Ren glanced over his shoulder and saw the Bullhead. Small mercies, it was intact. Clearly unflyable, with one engine clearly destroyed, but otherwise clearly intact, like a toy someone placed in the middle of the forest. If there had been any doubt before, there was almost certainly something to be salvaged now.

But Ren also counted three Beowolves and an Ursa loitering near the bullhead, none of them any larger than the kind that might have been found in the Emerald Forest. At least in that regard, there was still some normality out here.

"There are only four of them. I can handle them," Ren assured, sounding calm. He didn't need any help, or wayward civilians, to deal with these sorts of Grimm.

"There are only four you can _see_ ," Jaune returned. "There could be forty nearby, or four hundred the next valley over. It's not these four I'm worried about."

"You want to give up the supplies?" Ren asked, surprised. After the time they'd taken getting here? His guide had accepted the risks coming here in the first place If there was a time to back out, it should have been before they started. The supplies were right in front of them- and there were other opportunities as well.

His father had once told him that in the old tongue, 'crisis' was the same as 'opportunity.' Grimm reinforcements would be bad, especially Mouk, but not as bad as Jaune might believe. Ren still had his trump-card, after all.

If they were able to grab the supplies AND lure Mouk here… then they could use the distraction to slip around and past the troublesome mountain. With Mouk and his hoard distracted up north, the south should open up. The straight shot to civilization would be open to them.

Even before he could verbalize those thoughts, Jaune was already shaking his head.

"Salvage won't do us any good if we're dead. Too much risk of them raising an alert."

"We could take advantage of that, though," Ren began to explain, exerting his influence to calm his guide. "I can get us past Grimm. If we take this opportunity to gather them all here…"

Jaune was already glowering. "Are you stupid?" he hissed, fighting against Ren's influence. "That is the stupidest-"

One of the Beowolves growled, stepping out from under the meagre shelter of the bullhead.

Both boys ducked lower into the bush. This time when Ren grabbed for his Stormflowers, Jaune didn't stop him. Instead, Jaune reached for his own bow, taking it off his shoulder for the first time all day. For a moment, they both held their breath, and Ren focused his energy as best he could. Nothing interesting here, nothing but sterile, emotionless land…

The Beowolf glared at nothing, and took a deep sniff. With a lazy motion, it jumped to the top of the bullhead, from which it began sniffing again.

"Don't move," Jaune hissed, a hint of steel in his tone. "We're too close to back out now. We have to wait for them to drop their guard before we move."

"That's what I'm trying to say," Ren began. "Just listen to me- I can- what is it doing?" he asked, changing subject mid-sentence.

It was pretty obvious by the looks of it, though. The Beowolf that had jumped the bullhead had sniffed its way to the cockpit glass… and suddenly began scratching, clawing deep marks into the glass.

The glass was opaque, but intact. You couldn't see through it from a distance. But if you were up close, surrounded by Grimm…

Ren's eyes widened, despite his best efforts. Grimm didn't care about human vehicles, homes, or even supplies. There was only one thing they'd be interested in getting at.

"The pilot!" Ren realized in barely a whisper as the Beowolf's scratches got more and more frantic.

"What?" Jaune asked, slow on the uptake.

"It's after the pilot!" Ren whispered, horridly getting up. He readied his Stormflowers, no longer caring about perfect silence. They still had full clips. Good.

"What? No it isn't! Wait-" Jaune began, futilely trying to drag Ren back down.

Ren wouldn't be stopped. Not for this. There was no time to argue, and no time for a plan either. He mentally measured the distance from here to there. Too many meters, and too many Grimm, to keep them both safe. He'd have to push himself further than he ever had before, if only for a moment.

"Idiot, _listen_. How could someone still be there after three days!?" Jaune whispered frantically, even as he too began to raise.

Because _he_ was still alive after three days, Ren wanted to say, and that meant someone else could be as well. Especially if they had a Bullhead's worth of supplies to rely on. The cockpit and hull were in one piece and relatively well-armoured, which meant the pilot could have locked himself inside and awaited rescue.

Rescue that wouldn't come if Ren refused to do his duty.

"Stay here," he whispered to Jaune, gripping his shoulder and pushing down with a Huntsman's worth of force. Jaune's civilian body had no choice but to go back down. While Ren trusted his guide's instincts more than he had before, this was now Huntsman business. "You'll be safe if you stay still, so _stay here_. I'll handle this."

Jaune didn't seem to agree, staring at him with wide eyes. "Stay-? Are you an idio- hey, wait!"

Ren didn't, already moving. Speed was key, not only to catch the Grimm off-guard but to save the pilot. All thoughts of using the bullhead as bait were gone- there'd be no chance of breaking fast past the Grimm with a second (potentially wounded) civilian. Unlike a hunter, a pilot would have no special skills to survive these wilds.

Speed and stealth were paramount. But with his attention already stretched keeping Jaune unnoticeable, stealth would be moot in moments. This needed to be done, clean and fast, before the Moon Ursa could even get a chance to come back. No time for playing around.

The lone Ursa was the one to hear his footsteps. That was all it heard, and it only managed to turn halfway around before Ren slid under its feet, slashing both its knees and sending it toppling back. He swept up and caught its chest half-way, riding it down and using the momentum to drive Stormflower's small blades across it's throat, nearly (but not quite) disembowelling it.

It died almost instantly, never having a chance to give out more than a gurgle. But the sound of its body hitting the ground alerted the Beowolves.

Ren was already moving – kicking off the rapidly dissolving corpse and spinning in the air. Reaching the apex of his arch, he aimed his weapons at the first Grimm on the top of the bullhead, but hesitated at the last second. Jaune's face appeared in his mind, and the constant reminders for silence.

Gunfire would surely doom them.

An arrow would not, though, and a supremely lucky shot went beneath him. Jaune was intent on helping after all, it seemed, much to Ren's annoyance. Before he could target the next Grimm, he had to re-adjust his semblance focus towards the other boy. But the civilian's best intentions helped a little, at least, as that shot- that lucky shot- pierced the throat of the Beowolf that had climbed atop the Bullhead. Instead meeting Ren's descent with a swipe mid-air and a battle cry, the Beowolf barely whimpered as it grasped for its throat before falling backwards and over the far side of the Bullhead. Two down.

But Ren wasn't out of danger yet, as he landed back on the ground near the wings. Beneath the wing- hidden from his sight when he was in the air- was another of the Beowolves. It was already slashing with an arm in his direction as he landed, catching him before he could guard himself.

Its claws caught his midriff and launched him to the side. Aura flared on his stomach, and again on his back as he hit the bullhead. It didn't flare the third time, because he grunted and ducked under the claws that would have scythed across his neck. They scratched against the bullhead instead, leaving an ugly screech of nails on metal, and creating the loud sound of the battle.

Ren grimaced, and not just at the noise in his ear.

With the beast over-extended, however, he was able to place a hand on the back of its elbow, pushing the arm across its own body, and driving his knife up and under its armpit. It started to roar in pain, and at least until he drew his blade out and sliced its throat, silencing its death throes. The maneuver meant dropping one of his Stormflowers for the moment, but the free hand also allowed him to toss this monster towards the third and last Beowolf trying to sneak up on him.

The Beowolf jumped, dodging the thrown corpse, and landing on the Bullhead canopy.

Ren felt a shiver of fear in his soul as he ran into a leap, trying to reach the final Beowolf as fast as possible. It snarled, and slammed its claws down, maybe to prepare to meet him half-way or maybe pounding at the class between it and the pilot. The glass cracked, and Ren forced his muscles just that little bit further. _Please,_ he begged his tired and aching body, _let me save him!_

The Beowolf smashed its paw down again, and this time the glass buckled inwards. Ren's heart slammed into his throat. He was too far away. He was too far away. He wouldn't close the distance in time.

He threw Stormflower.

His weapons weren't designed to be throwing knives, but could serve as spinning blades in a pinch. The machine-pistol-knife flew like a discus, or maybe a frisbee, straight at the monster-dog's mouth. Like any good-bad dog, it bit instinctively.

It's head almost split in two for its troubles, it's jaw almost cut off at the hinge. It seemed surprised for a moment, tongue lolling around in confusion, before the baleful red eyes began to fade. He'd done it.

Ren was so focused on the dying Beowolf, he never noticed the other until it tackled him midair.

A fourth Beowolf, and he hadn't even realised there _was_ a fourth, tackled him mid-air, taking him by total surprise. Before he even hit the ground, his mind was racing. _It must have been on the far side, where we couldn't see it_ \- but those thoughts would do him little good when he'd land.

Beowolves are quite capable at fighting and slashing as a pack, but at their most dangerous they are pouncing predators. A full-grown Beowolf weighs considerably more than a man, even Professor Port. A direct leap would knock almost anyone down, and the Beowolf landing above them would be uniquely situated in a dominant position, able to rain down devastating slashes at the dazed and defending person below. A defender would be trapped between the legs, and struggle to reach up to hit the Beowolf. The Beowolf would have maximum range of movement to rip or claw or bite. It was a position no Huntsman wanted to be in, and one reason Beacon trained hand-to-hand against other Hunters and humanoids in general. The weapons changed, but some things didn't- a dominant position was dominant whether you were swinging a mace or flesh-rending claws.

Ren was about to be on the receiving end of that, without a single blade left to defend himself with.

 _I can't get hurt,_ he thought even as his back hit the ground. _Not like this._ His head hit the ground soon after. Maybe it was hard enough for a concussion. It took all the focus he had to stay focused and not lose consciousness. He instinctually drew in his semblance, pulling it around him as best he could. He raised his arms to guard his face, Miss Goodwitch's combat training coming back by instinct alone. His world narrowed to just him. _I have to save them._ The hunter. The pilot. _I'm the Huntsman. I have to save-_

The Beowolf was already above him, raising a claw for a slash that would cut through his feeble guard in a single blow. It snarled, and no amount of sterile emptiness would hide him from its spite.

The world seemed to grey as his semblance enveloped him, too late to matter. Fear for survival was replaced by emptiness, and other things.

 _I'm sorry, everyone. I'm sorry, Nora. I'm sorry…_

The Beowolf stopped, startled. Not at the name that passed through his lips, but at the wooden shaft now piercing through its chest. Right where a heart would be, if Grimm even had hearts, was a single arrow. The Beowolf was as shocked as he, so focused on him it forgotten everything else. It paused for a second… and then one paw slowly came up to touch the shaft, as though to question from whence it had come. A faint whistle sounded and a second buried itself into the creature, this time in its left eye, piercing deep into whatever the thing might call a brain.

With a tired gurgle, the creature staggered away from Ren and fell backwards, slamming into the soft grass.

Ren sat up, heart pounding. Jaune came jogging from the bushes. His bow was in his hand- another arrow already knocked- and the best that could be said about how he looked was that he was neither injured or about to gloat

Ren stared at the civilian hunter, wide-eyed. That first shot had been no fluke. "You- you saved me. You-"

"You," Jaune cut him off, tone incredibly cross, "are a fucking idiot. Don't they teach _anything_ at that fancy school of yours?" he cussed. Ren was still gathering his wits, and not exactly in a state to disrupt the diatribe. " _Of course_ there could have been more Grimm besides what we could see. You didn't give me a chance to check the far side. You didn't even let me set a diversion to draw them off. What were you _thinking_?"

Ren's head was still ringing, and he brought a hand to his face not in shame but to stop the world from swimming.

"I didn't think we had time," Ren said, more honest than defending. "They were trying to get to the pilot. I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

"You thought you were just going to charge on in there in try and save somebody you don't even know - don't you even know - are you _crazy_?" Jaune asked, too many questions competing. "And who do you think you are, charging in alone and leaving me behind like that? Are you seriously trying to protect _me_ from the Grimm?"

"I'm a Huntsman. It's what we do."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ren regretted them. Call them a moment of weakness and a sign of his still-spinning head, he knew they were the wrong choice. His guide… his guide wasn't helpless. The hunter's shots had been no fluke. He hadn't believed it at the time, but he should have. A hunter who hunted game- real game, not stationary targets- by bow and arrow would need to be a good shot. He should have kept that in mind. Instead he'd stepped back in a hornet's nest, and no doubt wounded the other boy's pride.

But nothing followed.

When he looked, he saw Jaune looking back, eyes wide. For the first time since meeting him, it was Jaune who was speechless. Jaune's eyes were wide, and there was a look that could only be called shock on his face, before he huffed if away and took a deep breath.

No recriminations emerged.

"Fine," Jaune Arc grit out, looking away from Ren and letting loose a large breath as he said it. "Just don't do it again, got it? Worry about yourself first, not me. I can't keep saving you if you don't protect yourself, understand?"

Ren didn't answer, but Jaune didn't seem to be looking for one. He turned away from Ren, and towards the Bullhead, and started making his way there briskly.

"Be quick. We don't have much time to scavenge. I don't think they got a real alert off, but it something might have heard that scrape against the metal. We don't want to be here when their packs come to investigate either." He paused at the door to the bullhead, right beneath the wing, and turned to speak over his shoulder without meeting Ren's eyes directly.

"And… good job, aiming for the throats like that. Keeping them from calling for help bought us some time. Guess Beacon's good for something after all."

Jaune ducked under the wing and into the Bullhead cabin, moving with the purpose of someone who knew what they were looking for. After recovering a little while longer, Ren was left to get to his feet. After collecting his Stormflowers, he approached the cockpit.

Cracked glass or not, it still hadn't opened. Even after the fight.

"Hey, are you alright?" Ren called as he walked around to where the pilot should be able to see him. "It's me, Ren! I'm sorry I'm late, but it's safe now! Can you hear me?"

Still no answer. Still the cockpit remained sealed. But, through the cracks, Ren could see a silhouette in the pilot's chair.

"Are you hurt? Signal me if you can! Or just stay calm- I'll be there in just a moment! I'm back, and it's going to be alright now!"

Still no answer. Also no cries of pain, which was good. Ren reached the external release for the canopy glass, meant for crashes just like this, and pulled it. With a hiss, the canopy glass opened automatically, and Ren clambered up a series of foot-holds, so he could see inside.

The pilot sat with a small smile on his face. He was also dead.

He was also naked- or almost- but before that it was the lack of life Ren recognized. The pilot was seated in the seat, buckled in, and with nary a scratch on him. His helmet was removed and cradled in his lap, a small scroll in it, even as his clothes were neatly folded on the dashboard. If it weren't for the lack of chest movement, the absence of breathing, he might have been asleep.

Ren's eyes widened, and he looked around, uncomprehending. But no, there were no wounds. No bloodstains on the floor. No hint of Grimm. Just some bodily signs of passing, including an odor. The man- a young man of a similar ethnicity as Ren, but maybe a decade older- was appropriately pale, even as his lips were blue and some veins stood out.

Ren fell to his knees, not understanding. "What- what is this-?"

"Suicide."

Ren almost, but not quite, leapt to his feet at the sound of Jaune's voice. He hadn't noticed the other boy climb atop the bullhead, but he had. Situated behind the cockpit, Jaune reached from behind and touched the man's neck, confirming the obvious. He didn't sound surprised.

"What? How?"

"Probably a pill of some kind, maybe medicine. I found the first-aid kit already open," he said, utterly calm despite the dead body. He was almost matter-of-fact. "A pilot stuck in the Grimmlands with no aura, no real means of defense, and no hope of rescue before the Grimm come to evacuate…" he trailed off. "He chose to go out on his own terms. Most pilots do."

Ren just shook his head in shock. "But… why?"

Jaune shot him a questioning look. "Because of the alternative?" he asked rhetorically. "Compared to the Grimm, he got a painless death. Look. He wouldn't be smiling otherwise."

Ren didn't want to look. Not at the post-mortem smile, or anything else. "No, I just don't understand why _he_ did." He looked at Jaune, eyes urgent and desperate. "He told me to jump. He passed me that book and said to hold onto it for him and-" here Ren's breath hitched, but he continued. "He said he was going to lose the Nevermore and circle back to me. I thought he'd just found another cave to hole up in, waiting for rescue. That if we got here, I might find some sort of sign where he went." He couldn't tell Jaune's reaction at the admission of his ulterior motive. "If he wasn't going to- if he could land but was afraid of the Grimm- why did he tell me to jump? I could have stayed with him. I could have protected him."

"You would have died with him."

Jaune's words were blunt, but not cruel. An initial flash of anger died when Ren saw Jaune wasn't looking at him with contempt, but at the pilot with a torn expression.

"I think he knew that. If he'd set down with you, the Grimm would have found you immediately. You might have held them off for awhile, but they would have overwhelmed you. Mouk, if nothing else. If you jumped off, he could lead the Grimm on a merry chase while you got to safety."

Ren's breath hitched as terrible thoughts crossed his mind. Was that it? Was he the reason why? The pilot hadn't trusted the Huntsman to protect him from the Grimm? That wasn't how it was supposed to be. Huntsmen were supposed to save people from the Grimm, not be the reason they died alone in fear of them. The pilot-

The pilot…

"I never even knew his name," Ren confessed, looking aside in shame. "He probably told me, but I was distracted. I didn't think he was important. But-"

The hunter could have kicked the Huntsman while he was low. Instead, a wet, muddy hand reached forward and awkwardly put itself on his shoulder. It was the first human contact he'd had since Beacon.

"He wanted you to survive. That's why he brought the Bullhead as close to you as he could. That's why he tried to land as best he could. He could have killed himself instantly in a crash. Instead, he wanted you to find him, and this."

The hand withdrew, to bring forth what looked like a civilian tote bag. It was packed neatly with supplies- rations, first aid, flares and more. All the supplies they could have hoped to salvage from the bullhead, packed far too neatly for Jaune to have done so in such a short amount of time.

Penned to the bag was a bit of scratch paper, with a hand-scrawled note.

"I think he wanted you to read this," Jaune said.

 _Huntsman Lie,_ it read.

 _I hope this finds you in better health than I will be. Forgive me my deception, but I know you wouldn't have done what was needed had you known the truth. I've flown many a Beacon student, and I know your kind. It is my job to get you someplace safely, not to get you killed on my behalf. You face a trial hard enough already. You don't need someone like myself dragging you down. There are some paths only Huntsmen can tread, and the Grimmlands are among them._

 _I know we did not know each other long. I know you took this mission for your own reasons. There were many things I wished to ask you, about our homeland and otherwise, and there are things I believe you needed to share. I am sorry I cannot lighten your burden for you. Instead all I can do is wish you the best, and leave you these final words._

 _Keep moving forward._

 _Do not mourn me - there will be a time and a place for that later. Live for me instead. Your path out of the Grimmlands will be hard, but not impossible. You are more than a student of Beacon, with the best school and faculty to learn from. You are the man you told me of, and I believe that man is a better person than he realizes. Keep your compassion alive. Too many in this world let it fade in the face of cynicism or expedience. Do not despair. Remember the Words of the Way._

 _Hope is our greatest weapon against the Grimm._

 _I cannot wield that weapon, Lie Ren. True Huntsman are the only ones who can. But I have faith that you can be that sort of person. Take these supplies, and live. In return, I ask just one favour. When you return to Vale, please tell my loved ones that my last thoughts were of them. They will understand._

 _It was an honour, Huntsman._

 _Lee Ahn_

 _Pilot, Beacon Academy_

Ren said nothing at first. There was nothing to say. Above him, his guide stirred uncomfortably.

"You… shouldn't feel guilty. I've gone after my share of downed Bullheads in the past, and… even I haven't been able to get one back. Sometimes the best we can bring back is word of a painless death. I don't know who this guy was-"

"Ahn. His name was Lee Ahn," Ren interrupted.

There was a pause.

"…alright. I didn't know Lee Ahn, but I know he couldn't have been that bad of a person. He wanted you to live. He brought these supplies as close as he could. He even…" Jaune gestured at the body, and the neatly folded clothes off of it. "He even wanted you to give you the shirt off his back. He was that sort of person."

"And he died," Ren said.

"And he got a good death, which is all any of us could ask for," Jaune corrected. "At least he got to die with a smile on his face, thinking of family. See?" Jaune asked, pointing at the pilot's helmet which lay in his lap.

Inside it was a small collection of photos, all filled with people, all smiling. Family. Friends. Lovers? He might never know.

But Lee Ahn was still smiling, even in death.

"He died happy. He died believing he helped. He died believing you would be safe. Which is why we need to get out of here now and-"

"Alright," Ren said, rising.

Jaune blinked. His expression was a mix of surprise and scepticism. "Alright?"

"Alright," Ren repeated, looping the strap of the tote bag around his shoulder and standing. The bag, filled as it was, was heavy but not unreasonable. After gathering the folded clothes and stuffing them in as well, Ren removed a flare and dispassionately shot it straight into the cockpit. In a matter of moments flames caught, and the smell of smoke and searing flesh began to rise.

"To deny his body to the Grimm," he explained without apology, in case Jaune had any objections. There were none. "We're going back North, right?"

Jaune looked more his words than actions. "That's it?" he asked. "You going to listen now? Not going to keep nagging about going south or questioning my every move?"

Ren shook his head. Questions felt pointless now. And even if the other boy was no Huntsman, and just a mere civilian…

"You're the guide," he said instead.

…there didn't seem to be anything 'mere' about civilians right now.

"Alright," Jaune warily accepted, and stepped ahead. Ren followed. Tired as he was - at the day, at the week, and at the last five minutes and everything else that brought him to this point - he withdrew his Semblance from the man for the first time since leaving the cavern.

Nothing changed.

The sky didn't fall, hateful ravings didn't commence, and Grimm didn't start pouring out of the forest. A tired, irritable, but otherwise composed young man - no Huntsman, but a competent hunter in his own right - remained just that. Over-exerting himself with his semblance had probably been unnecessary from the start. His companion could look after himself.

He'd been doing so long before Ren got out here, after all.

"Ah," Ren said as epiphany struck him at long last.

"What?" Jaune asked, looking back with suspicion. Probably expecting another request to head south.

"Nothing," Ren said, shaking his head and denying it. "I just remembered something, that's all."

She'd always said her brother was the best Hunter on the frontier.

* * *

 **College Fool Note:**

 **One of these days the chapters will be shorter… one of these days…**

 **(At least Coeur didn't have to write all it.)**

 **So. Welcome back to the first part of the first real arc of HoS. We are now officially past the part I'd already mostly written, and into the stuff Coeur wrote… and I added a lot on top of, because I'm bad like that. But, hey, Coeur only had to struggle through unclear directions right?**

 **So, this chapter was important because Coeur felt (rightly) that we needed to establish a new normal between Ren and Jaune. New as in 'how this will be different from CRDL and RWBY.' Are Ren and Jaune best buddies and bros yet? Hardly. Is Ren going to be a one-man CRDL? Probably not. Are character tensions going to rise?**

 **Oh, heck yeah.**

 **But at least we won't be (quite) repeating the prologue.**

 **Next chapter will bring… stuff. Stuff that may or may not include some absent faces. But why worry about then, when you can focus on today? New facts, new faces, and new hints of things to come.**

 **(But next time will be shorter. For reals this time. Really.)**

 **Thoughts, reviews, and feels all welcome.**

 **/**

 **HoS Trivia Chapter 6**

 **If you ever happen to be in a position where you survive a plane or helicopter crash in the wilderness, staying near the aircraft crash site is the best thing you can do if you want to be found sooner than later. That may not always be the case, but assuming you're not in a world of man-eating monsters or enemy territory, it's much easier to find a downed aircraft from the air than a lone survivor in the wilderness.**

 **Of course, our heroes ARE in a world of man-eating monsters…**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 2nd December**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter, we get a lecture-style exposition dump. And a new legend of Mouk? Coeur only had to write about half of this, I swear.**

* * *

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night as the monsoon raged. Trees bent and the wind howled as slashing sleet and raindrops the size of fingers crashed against anything and everything in their path. It was not a time to travel, or a time to be trapped outside.

Yang considered that as she watched the windows rattle and felt the warmth of a roaring fire buffer her body. It was a time to be inside and warm, which she was, and yet the heat from the fire only warmed her skin. Inside she still felt cold, wet, and soaked in failure.

Ren wouldn't have a fire, if he was even still alive enough to feel cold at all.

The thought had haunted her since their mission and continued to do so. She brought her legs up to her chest and huddled into a tighter ball, pressing her cheeks into her knees as she stared into the fire. She was too tired to scream, to rage, to find the person responsible and beat them within an inch of their life. That wasn't even an option. You couldn't fight nature like that, nor a storm that had firmly and totally grounded all Bullheads. You could scream defiance into the gale, but so what?

No one was going to be making any more rescue attempts today. Or tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that…

She sighed. She was exhausted. Physically for sure, but mentally too. She felt beaten up in way that Grimm alone couldn't. They all did.

Everyone who had gone out had come back… almost. They were safe and sound… most of them. Nora's muffled cries in the distance were a reminder that 'most' didn't mean 'everyone,' and 'safe' didn't mean 'fine.' Other absences were even more telling.

Team RWBY was still whole, small comfort that it was. Bruised, battered, and worse for wear, but alive to feel it. They'd even gotten some sleep on the bullhead back, sheer exhaustion more than anything. It had been a mistake. When she'd woken at the sudden jolt of landing- shot up eyes wide and adrenaline pumping and reaching for her weapons- she'd known she wouldn't be getting back to sleep again soon.

It was night again. How late, she didn't know, and the thick storm clouds had blacked the sky before sunset. Without the sun in the sky, her own internal clock was off. She wasn't the only one. Only one of them was asleep- Ruby, who'd stayed up the whole trip back, and cried herself to sleep after Kalie had been taken away. Ruby slept fitfully the next bed over. Yang was here for her, if- when- her baby sister woke up again.

She didn't know what she was going to say.

The door clicked as the doorknob turned, and slightly opened as someone tried to enter as quickly and quietly as they could. Gold eyes soon looked back at Yang, and understood.

"Still can't sleep?" Blake asked softly, looking at her and the sleeping Ruby and the two other empty beds.

"Not a wink. You want to try?"

Blake shook her head. "Still too on edge. I'd hoped walking would help, but…" her nose crinkled. "Doesn't help that everything smells of wet dogs." At least the kennels were far away.

"At least it's not as bad as Beacon," Yang tried, but the joke fell flat. Her flicker of good humour faded. "Any news with Weiss…?"

"Still with Kalie," Blake answered. "She pulled strings to stay by her side until she wakes up. I don't think she's sleeping much tonight either."

"At least Kalie's alive," Yang sighed, before a groan and rustling in the sheets beside her reminded them of who else was here. Yang rose as quietly as she could, and with a gesture she and Blake exited the room and walked into the inn's hallways, far enough to talk freely.

It was hard, when there wasn't much good to say.

"I'm still surprised they had a doctor they could reach," Yang said, starting the conversation again. "I didn't think a place this out of the way would have a hospital at all."

"They don't, but even SDC needs to deal with broken bones and mining accidents," Blake informed. "That 'emergency room' was just a clinic."

"Well, at least SDC is good for something," Yang tried.

"They had to call in the other town doctor to find someone with any experience in internal medicine," Blake said, before her eyes narrowed a bit more. "Weiss paid for him out of pocket."

SDC wasn't likely to reimburse non-SDC doctors for treating non-employees, after all.

"Well, at least Weiss is good for something," Yang returned. Seeing Blake still frowning, she nudged her partner with a motivation she didn't truly feel. "And Kalie. If she lasted this long, she'll pull through. She's with a doctor now, so she'll be fine."

Blake didn't respond as she'd hoped. Her partner sighed, and put her hands to her face, though no tears were coming. "She needs more than a doctor, Yang. She needs- gods, her face…"

"She'll be okay," Yang said, with conviction this time, wondering if she dared put an arm around her partner. "She's strong."

She had no idea whether she was saying that to convince Blake or herself. Her partner hummed something that might have been agreement, but might easily have been nothing at all.

"How is Team CRDL?" Blake asked. "I saw Cardin with Russel at the clinic before they left. The doctor put his arm in a splint and gave him something for infection until he can get it looked at in Beacon." He probably wouldn't lose it…

"They're racked out in their room," Yang answered, pointing a thumb to one door in particular. Someone had thoughtfully put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the handle, which did nothing to hide the slight odour of alcohol emanating from the room. "They had it as rough as us, if not rougher. Someone found them some drink when they got back." It was doubtful anyone had bothered to check their age either. "As for Cardin…"

"Still not talking?"

"He's dealing with his own issues at the moment."

Blake nodded in understanding, and Yang let loose a mixed sigh of her own before her own fist tightened. She'd never thought they'd be the ones expressing sympathy for Cardin, but it was a tough break. Maybe it was because she knew what he was going through to a degree. Losing someone in a forest to the Grimm because of you… that was a nightmare she knew something about. Uncle Qrow had saved her from that when he'd saved Ruby. No Huntsman had been around to save Cardin, or his guide.

It would have been easy to throw this in his face and call it their fault. He'd been the one to take Jaune on his team, after all. From what little she knew, CRDL had gotten along with Jaune as much as RWBY had listened to Kali. But it had been Cardin's choice to ignore him and lose him, Cardin's choice to retreat and leave him behind, and so in a way Cardin deserved the anger and grief he'd been hit with. In a way he'd brought it on himself, more than once.

It would have been easy to blame him for all of that – if there wasn't someone else who could have been blamed more.

Yang's fist began to shake. Another hand covered it. Blake, as always, seemed able to read her like a book.

"It's not your fault, Yang."

"Like hell it isn't," Yang hissed, blinking away tears threatening to come. "I'm the one who met him first, and he found me over the bodies of people he lives with." Her fist began to shake more, and Blake's calming hand was almost a restraint. "Talk about first impressions - no wonder he hated us. If I'd just waited in the room with Ruby instead of going for a drink… if he'd just met you all first instead of me ruining it for everyone-"

"I doubt it would have mattered much," Blake said softly. "You weren't the only one to get off on a bad foot with him. And even if we could have been better, he was…"

What, a jerk? An ass? Someone annoying, but who's help they'd needed, even if they didn't realize it at the time? Someone they were supposed to protect regardless of what they felt?

"…difficult."

Yang swallowed a laugh that might have turned into more of a sob. So what? He was left behind and alone in the Grimmlands now. What mattered more than that? Was that his fault too, just because he hadn't liked them enough for them to like him? Were they going to blame the victim now?

Her fist clenched harder. She liked being popular, but she didn't do this to be popular. And she sure wasn't the sort to want someone to suffer just because she wasn't popular with them. She prayed not, at least.

"It's my fault," she ground out. "I messed up first. I set him off on hating us. If I'd just taken a breath and waited…" Alternatives flashed in her mind. Maybe Blake and Weiss would have their bad encounters, maybe not. Maybe he'd be a grump anyways. But she could have dealt with a grump, or someone else starting off on a bad foot. She could have been smiles and sunshine like a summer day, overpowering the gloom with positivity. At least long enough to find a grateful Ren. They didn't have to be best friends to be friendly. They didn't have to like each other to get along.

She didn't have to know who he was first, to help Ruby keep a promise later.

"Jewels is going to hate me when she hears everything," she predicted morosely.

"You know she won't," Blake returned immediately, as if the prospect was unthinkable. Considering who they were talking about, it almost was. Or would have been yesterday. "At least no more than she ever does when someone calls her that," she tried.

When that didn't prompt a response from Yang, Blake sighed. "It's not just your fault, Yang. You weren't the only one to give a bad impression. I… didn't exactly conduct myself well here," she confessed, looking aside with a shame that made Yang look up.

"That's different, though," Yang protested, defending her partner from herself. "Nobody could expect you to happy out here. It's, like, literally the worst place in the world for you. A Schnee Dust Mine with faunus miners scraping by? Anyone who knows you would know you'd be on edge about that."

"But they don't know me, do they?" Blake returned. "And I… I didn't exactly give them a reason to. I didn't go after the right target, just the easiest. People who weren't to blame. People who couldn't change anything. People who only liked me for as much reason as I gave them, whether they knew I was a faunus or not." She shook her head. "I don't think they did. We all made mistakes back here, Yang. It wasn't just you."

Yang's eyes drifted down once more, and she shifted to lean against the wall, looking away from Blake and out a rainy window.

"What's happens now?" Yang asked, sounding somehow smaller than yesterday. Blake looked out the window with her.

"Well, for now… we're grounded," Blake admitted "We're stuck here until the monsoon lets up regardless. If Ren's beacon is still alive and moved afterwards, we might get another chance if we beg the right people."

"And if it's not?" Yang asked. It wasn't the idea of begging that put her off. They both knew exactly how much longer Ren's beacon was supposed to last if left on.

"…they already listed Jaune Arc as missing," Blake informed. She'd seen a dog faunus, a pretty old and ragged guy, struggling to hide his tears. "I don't think they'll need much to add Ren to that list."

"Damn it," Yang hissed.

"His family has to be told. They live outside the walls."

"I thought Ren and Nora-"

"I meant Jaune."

"…damn," Yang hissed again, before casting a look at Blake. "Is she…? In this weather?" she added, looking nervously outside.

"I saw Pyrrha with her. I think she wants to be away from us for a while," Blake guessed, and her lips turned down. She clearly didn't blame her.

"Ruby's going to be devastated if her first friend ends up hating her." More devastated than she was already, at least. Another thing Yang didn't know how to fix. "I hope they can get over this."

"Same here," Blake agreed, though she'd never been the warmest towards either of them. "Speaking of which…" she trailed off. "How is she?"

"Hm?" Yang grunted.

" You know... Nora."

Yang looked back down the hall, and towards the door past Team CRDL and the 'Do Not Disturb' sign. There was nothing exceptional about it.

Not since the crying had stopped for a little longer, at least.

"She's sedated again," Yang figured.

"Still?"

"Team CFVY isn't taking any chances. You saw how she was back there." Back when shouting had turned to shoving, and even Pyrrha had been thrown back as the maiden tried to run into the woods and to her certain doom. Yatsu had had to restrain her. Velvet had had to do more when the ginger wouldn't calm down. No one had wanted to take chances with her inside a fragile bullhead.

"But still... isn't this a little too much?"

Yang frowned, knowing what Blake meant. But also what Coco had said when she poked her head into their room a few hours ago.

"They don't… they don't think she should be alone right now. They're taking shifts staying with her. At least for the monsoon." At least for so long that a single unattended moment could see her bolt into the forest, be lost amongst the raindrops, and never be seen again.

Or worse.

"They also said we should probably stay away for now. That she's volatile, and they don't want us setting her off if she sees us. Especially since…"

The uncomfortable topic floated in the air between them. Losing a partner was a strange thing to consider. It was also surprisingly rare. Most Huntsmen teams lived together and died together. If they lived, they grew to old age and told tall tales to each other's children. If they didn't, they tended to fall together simply because they were the type to stand by each other even the face of impossible odds. When they didn't- in the rare cases that one tragically outlived the other…

It changed people. Uncle Qrow, never the sentimental sort, had once said it was like losing half of everything you were, including your reason to live. At the time, she'd thought it Qrow's way of explaining why Daddy was acting so strange. Now, in hindsight...

There'd been a reason Uncle Qrow had stayed with them for months. He hadn't been there just to take care of the two girls, but to watch out for all three of them. Especially the third.

But Dad had pulled through. He'd had other reasons to bring him back from the edge. His teammate Qrow, but also his little girls. He'd gotten better, eventually. Still changed from who he must have been before, but resolute in his own way. He'd been determined to honour Summer's memory however he could, even if it was only by looking after their children.

Not everyone made it through like him, though. Not everyone gave themselves the chance to.

"Blake, if anything ever happens to me, promise me-"

"Don't," Blake whispered, throat tight and eyes closed. It was as close to a plea as Yang had ever heard from her partner. "Please don't ask me that. Not now."

It wasn't the answer she'd wanted, but maybe it was answer enough. Yang glanced down and sucked in a quick breath. She'd only known her partner for half a year or so. Ren and Nora had been together forever, or near enough.

If the thought of Blake gone hurt, what must Nora be feeling right now?

Maybe Blake wondered that too. "I'm going to go for a walk," Blake suddenly said, wrapping her borrowed rain cloak about herself. Before she could run off though- before she could run down the stairs and run away- she stopped, hand on a railing as she looked back.

"Yang, I-" she paused, eyes wide, and shook her head. "Never mind," she declared, before looking back with calmer, softer eyes.

"Do you want me to bring something back?" she offered. "If we're going to be staying up late and all."

Yang relaxed, at least for now. "Yeah," she accepted with a relieved smile of her own. "Thanks. I'll go check on Ruby, then. Don't be too long." _Be safe,_ she didn't say.

"I won't," Blake promised. _I will,_ she meant.

She left.

It was only when her partner was gone that Yang pressed her face against the cool glass of the window and let out a long sigh. The smile from a moment ago faded, and the inner feeling of wrong and incomprehension returned. Even if Blake had brought answers, she couldn't answer all things.

"Why did you have to go on a solo mission, anyway?" she asked nobody present. "Why would you ever do that?"

Ren, of course, gave no answer.

/-/

The rain and wind outside didn't so much buffet Blake as violently assault her, threatening to tear the cloak from her body while also doing its best to drown her by forcing rainwater down her throat. She tugged the water-proof fabric against herself and forced one foot before the other as she trudged through the rain slick dirt – or mud – path. There had never been weather like this in Menagerie or Mistral, but maybe that had been because she'd always had somewhere to hide. Even White Fang tents protected from the worst of the elements.

Out here they were at the mercy of the elements, and were it not for the flood and storm defences the buildings had put up, she feared they might have been torn away. To her shock, there were a few others like her running about. Most of them stopped to check sandbags and looking for storm damage. When the wind whipped their cloaks about, she caught glimpses of SDC logos beneath.

The snowflake logo alone filled her with a flash of hard-learned resentment, even if they were trying to limit property damage and by extension protect people. They were probably just doing it because they feared a loss of productivity, and thus profit. Still, she couldn't exactly hate them for it, even if she was content to let them struggle in the storm while she went somewhere warm and dry. With a sight lost to the storm she trudged past them, headed to the tavern down the road from the inn. It was familiar, and deservedly so. It was where she'd come with medical supplies earlier, after Yang had had her little fight.

They hadn't exactly welcomed her with open arms before, even though she'd been carrying medical supplies. Now with her hood and cloak wrapped tight about her, she probably wouldn't be recognised.

That was probably for the best.

The wooden door slammed open the second she unlatched it, the wind taking it and tearing it from her grasp. Every face in the room turned her way, and the sound of piano music stopped, but the response to the cliché of an unknown figure shrouded in a black coat was just a bark of laughter. People turned back to their drinks within moments, paying her and the puddle in the doorway no mind. They were clearly used to such ridiculous weather and all the trappings it brought with it, even as she made her way to one of the few openings near the bar.

Surprisingly, the bar - more of a saloon really - was actually crowded. Or maybe that wasn't surprising given the storm outside and the fact the mines were closed. Everyone was stuck indoors. If you weren't going to sleep, and it was either inside alone or inside with others, then why not go where everyone else would go? Candles were lit for a steady glow, cards were being played, and that piano she had heard earlier was at work once more on a mostly upbeat melody. Something rag-tail? Blake had never been much for music, but faunus music had its niches. Surprising to hear it out here, but given the number of faunus appendages she saw maybe it shouldn't have been. What was more surprising was how little the humans in the crowd seemed to care, drinking and talking with faunus and other human alike.

"Warm drink?" the human at the bar asked as she sat down, indicating a large barrel uncorked and beside him. There was steam rising from the top of it, and though it wasn't what she'd originally come for, Blake's nose quickly caught the scent.

"Is that… spiced cider?" she asked, spirits lifting despite herself. It smelled good and looked better, and Yang wouldn't begrudge her a quick break as long as she brought her some.

"Indeed it is, little lady!" the bartender exclaimed, pleased at his pride being recognized. "It's a local recipe, and made from apples that only grow in this region. It's something of a tradition here to warm up a keg for the monsoon season. Would you like some?"

"Please," she said, nodding and accepting the warm mug when it was offered. She let some lien clink onto the bar. She recognised the barman from earlier – the same one who'd helped her patch some injured men back together. He'd given her thanks but no warmth then. Given his attitude now, he probably didn't recognise her. He'd probably recognize she wasn't someone he recognized soon enough, though, though maybe he'd assume she was one of the newer Huntresses who hadn't made a mess of things yet. "Thank you." she said, keeping her head low. He slipped away a moment later.

She brought the cider to her lips once he was gone, and savoured the warm, rich taste. He hadn't been lying when he said it was spiced. It was more the heat than anything, but it warmed the bones in a way that the inn fireplace hadn't. There might have been a bit of spirits in it as well - by design, not prank - but only enough to ease tongues rather than escalate tensions. No bar fights were happening here tonight, since rather than slap their lips and belch rowdily, men and women were sighing in contentment, closing their eyes as the heat ran through their bodies.

It felt… different to Vale, and not in a bad way. Though the people drank, they didn't seem to do so for the sake of getting drunk, or for causing trouble or picking up women. Men and women of all ages sat at tables chatting, and though voices were raised, it was usually in laughter or talking about lighter topics. Maybe that was the point of the semi-hard cider. Something for all ages and all races to enjoy and share in. It wasn't bad, for rustic specialty. She tried not to think about how much anyone was (not) being paid to pick the apples, and took a few seconds to savour the peaceful atmosphere.

"...Beacon…"

Beneath her hood, her ears twitched in the direction of the conversation. She took another sip, only turning her head enough to glimpse at who was talking.

"It's a damn shame," a burly man said. "I heard one o' them came back broken, sobbing and crying. Can't say what they found, but doesn't look good."

"Came back with less than they went with," another said. "Never a good sign."

"Doesn't get any easier," a third agreed. "Hope the poor lass they brought back gets over it. Time heals all wounds, an' all that."

Blake kept her head down, but was grateful for the sentiment nonetheless. It was good to see the people didn't have any ill-will towards them over what had happened. No one was wishing 'the Blonde Bitch' was the one suffering either, though Blake saw few patrons with signs of injury.

"Damn shame about Kalie, though," someone said. "I heard her crying from down the road."

"Well, what do ya expect?" some heavyset and heavily scarred miner asked. "She's a girl. Lass wasn't ready for the likes of that."

"I'm a guy, and I'd be crying too if somebody took a meat grinder to my face," retorted his partner. "I seem to remember you blubbering like a baby when you got those scars, bub."

Angry, and vulgar, denials followed. "It's not the same," the scarred man insisted. " 'sides, it's not like it ruined my future. Not like a need a second eye to aim or 'unt," he slurred. "'sides, weren't them Huntresses supposed to be protecting 'er? I thought they came from that fancy school or something. Can't even protect one li'l girl?"

Blake had to take down a deep breath to bottle down the shame, and other things. Excuses were easy. Results didn't care.

"It's a shame, no two ways about it," a faunus man, slightly younger, said. "Especially with how she looks. Or looked, I should say," the slightly pretentious… peacock?... faunus said. "If what my sister said is true, no way she'll be able to keep anyone around now. Who's to take care of her in her old age if she can't get a husband?" The preening peacock melodramatically sighed. "Even if she did go to that Schnee-licker Conman first, I suppose I could-"

Blake had to take a breath for other reasons, faunus or no, before a hefty mug of ale solidly came down on the table in front of him, frothing over and spilling on his pants. _Too_ solidly to just be by accident.

"I suspect lil' Kalie will have friends who can help about that for a long while yet," a middle-aged but decidedly unimpressed barmaid hinted. "She always was a dear bringing in the deer for cheap, and that don't need no pretty face to be remembered. I don't think she needs some second-rate washed up artist sniffing around before she's stopped bleeding. Why don't you try something when you've got more than sweet words and second-rate scribbles to sell to anyone fool enough to play with you?" she scorned.

That seemed to fluster him, to ever-higher octaves. "Second- second-rate? Second rate?! Artist! I, I will have you know good lady, am a _novelist_!"

"Suuure you are, dearie," the waitress sneered, and not one bit because of his race. "That's why you're here drinkin', with the rest of the miners."

"…I just have a case of writer's block that's all," the subdued voice replied, but attention had already turned.

"Is a shame about her," a more serious-minded worker down the line. The miner was one of the rare 'she' miners, a stocky female faunus who could only have been a gorilla. "I don't care if she gets married or not, but I do care if she can bring in food. If she can't, that's one hunter less to buy from. We were already down one hunter. Now it's two. Three with Jaune." She took a long pull, and there was a broader silence when her glass came down hard.

"Belts gonna be tighter around here for a while. At least 'till Jacque gets back."

No one disagreed, and the discussion lingered on the latest rumours of Kalie's status. Being their Guide, her injuries were still a sore topic. They would be until she woke up, and would probably persist long afterwards.

"What was she doing out there anyway?" she heard someone ask out loud. "A girl like that was never fit to be a hunter. Should've stayed safe behind the walls."

"You sayin' it's her fault?"

"O'course not! Just… she was never right for the job, you know?"

"Can blame the Arc for putting it in her head," someone complained, "You know the two were together for a while. She probably felt she had to get 'is attention. He never did have much time for anyone that couldn't walk into the woods without wee-ing 'emself."

"That idiot," the first man hissed. "He should 'ave known she was just going to get herself killed, chasing after 'em. I thought she'd learned better when she got with Con."

Blake shifted towards the voice, surprised by the tone of muted hostility and wondering what it was about. Before she could turn fully she caught his name at another table and subtly listened in on their chatter.

"You think it's the Arc boy's fault?" a woman didn't quite whisper.

"Must be," another woman replied. "Uppity sort, wasn't he? Always thought he was better than all the other hunters, better than Huntsmen even, when he was half the weight. Dunno why Mannie started paying him to go twice as far to bring back half the meat, but my man wasn't the only one glad he was gone longer and longer. Less selling his meat on the cheap, more for the rest of us," she asserted, clearly missing no meals herself.

"Didn't he make it back from the Grimmlands, though?" her neighbour asked, blinking owlishly. "I saw it in some fancy magazine or something. He got some special dust or something from the lost zones. Not the Grimmlands, but, you know…" the neighbour blinked more. "The _real_ Grimmlands, the ones no one's ever mapped since ever."

"Bah, hogwash. Don't believe that nonsense. Everyone knows no one comes back from past the Unmapped Mountains. That boy didn't chart nuthin,'" the lady said. "Even he couldn't say where he got it, mighty suspicious if you ask me. Was probably just got high in the forest and found that dust somewhere and spun a yarn." The woman scoffed loudly. "Boys like him are always desperate for attention and to seem bigger than they are. You saw how he acted around those huntsmen, right?"

"Like he hated them through and through…"

"Hated them for being bigger than him, more like. Arrogant, silly boy… I feel bad for his ma'. Now there's a nice woman. Makes the nicest things from her leather and loom. Not her fault he wouldn't learn no manners from her."

"I'll feel bad for you if you're speaking ill o' the dead," a nearby man growled. "Whatever 'is faults, he was one of us. Don't you be badmouthin' that."

The women started to talk in a lower tone, shooting glares at the man who had dared call them out on their behaviour. Whatever other unpleasant things they had to say, she could no longer here. What she'd already heard was enough to have her thinking, however.

So, he wasn't entirely popular here either. Arrogant was one way to put it, but she didn't really think it the truth. He'd disliked them, sure, but there'd seemed to be more to it than a desire to be seen as better than them. It felt too personal to be arrogance.

Now that she was looking for it, she caught his name in other snippets of conversation. It made sense since he was the news of the town for his disappearance, but the range of opinions was large. Some seemed to consider it his own fault, a cause of someone not listening to their betters in the strong-looking Huntsmen he'd been with. Others spoke of him with the kind of detached sympathy only someone who didn't know a person could, commenting that it was `such a shame`, but without any real empathy.

Others just spoke of him in general.

"Strange boy, he was," one older miner remembered. "Nice enough when he started selling meat, but he never really fit in, even back then. Never really looked comfortable around people or in a crowd, 'specially not underground. Always with his back to Edge and looking out into the Wildlands."

"Liked his own company more than he did anyone else's," another woman added. "Always knew there was something off about him. Told my Jessica to stay away, I did, not that I think he noticed. Not a bad lad, but not quite there if ye know what I mean. Didn't want her to feel the 'eartbreak."

"Good call there, Mary. You do good by your girl. You really do."

Blake looked back down to her cider. People never truly understood those who were different, and in that it seemed Edge wasn't much different from Vale or anywhere else in the Kingdoms. The people here might have been more accepting of animal parts, but it seemed they were no less wary of those who didn't fit into the same, accepted mould as everyone else.

"Speaking of him, I saw _her_ skulking around too," a man not two seats down the bar muttered to his companion.

"Her?"

"His better half, if that's such a thing," the first growled.

"The Arc girl…?" The second man grumbled something and spat to the side. "Lot o' guts she's got coming back 'ere after what she did. If Jaune's really dead, it's on her head. Jaune's hasn't been at his best since she snuck off and took his ace, damn thief."

"Too true. Jaune ain't bad, no two ways about it, but he ain't half as good without his ace. He was damn mad when he learned, and when he returned… whoo boy. You know that thing he does, when he looks at you like you're less than the thing you scraped off your shoe? He was like that for a _month_. Even 'is uncle was glad when Mr. Mann found that long trip long aways to cool 'im off."

"He was mighty pissed, alright. I wasn't surprised though, just surprised she waited she long. Even when her head was in da clouds she had better places to be than here. Always thought she was too good for us folk."

"Always said the frontier's no place for a Jewel," the first said – and both laughed derisively at the obvious in-joke. "Saw her skulking about outside, probably off t' spread the bad news to th' others."

"She's bad news herself. Cursed is more like it. Not a man around her doesn't come to something bad sooner or later. Feel sorry for the missus, though. Talk about a bad year- first 'er daughter, now the son? Who's she gonna turn to after this?"

"She can turn to me if she likes," someone else boasted, overhearing. "I wouldn't mind showing her how a real man handles things."

There was a loud scrape of wood on wood, followed by a clatter. Silence overtook the saloon in an instant, and Blake's eyes – along with everyone else's – were drawn to the man responsible. It was a dog-eared dog faunus who struggled with his deep breaths.

"How dares ye," he hissed, clothing ratty and yet eyes flashing with clear anger. "Ye speak ill of Jaune for all he's done fer us? And you," he said in a thick accent, pointing to the bar. "You think Jacque would be happy t' hear ye say tha' about his sister? Maybe I'll tell him next he comes by, see what he thinks of ye bein' a real man."

"Oh, sit down, Dogpatch," someone yelled, followed by raucous laughter. "He didn't mean no harm by it."

"An' listen to you all badmouth 'im? He's put food on ma table, and prob'bly done the same for yes in turn, not to mention 'erbs and medicine and runn'in letters to the next town over. Ye all be forgettin' that, I see."

"No one's forgettin' nothing', Dogpatch," someone else called, "but the lad's done for. Left behind by Huntsmen, and against Duke no less. Even Jacque was no match for the Duke when he was in 'is prime." There was a long and awkward silence there, and Blake joined in wholeheartedly, staring down at the wooden bar.

"Then ah'll leave ye all here to chatter and speak ill o' them," Dogpatch said, snatching up his drink and downing it in one. "But mah money is that Jaune ain't done yet, not by a long shot. And when 'e comes back, I'll tell 'im I told you so."

Not a person spoke as he slammed the mug back down on the table. Whether or not he was right or wrong, his words had cut many, Blake included.

Would things have been different if she and Yang had held in their frustrations and not caused a scene? It was easy to think so, and to blame themselves, but she wasn't so certain. Kalie hadn't been a bad guide by any means, but they'd failed to heed her words. She wanted to say otherwise, but she was sure it would have been the same with him – albeit with more arguing. Maybe standing up to them would have been enough. Or maybe they would have still been cocky and arrogant, sure that a journey into the Grimmlands was the same as a stroll below the cliffs of Beacon.

That was their true mistake.

 _And there's no telling if things would have been worse had Kalie been on Cardin's team,_ she thought, sipping her lukewarm cider. Maybe not, but maybe. Team RWBY was stronger than CRDL, and that might have led to Kalie being maimed and not just mauled. It was hard to say and she sighed forlornly. What-if's were always hard.

"That's a mighty heavy sigh," someone said, laying a hand on her shoulder from behind. "Come on, lass, why don'tcha come play cards wit-"

He froze.

The men beside her froze, as well. Blake knew why.

Whether the man had meant it or not, he'd drawn down her hood when he touched her, and her hair and bow were revealed to all, along with her face and parts of her neck. It wasn't her faunus features that startled them – if they could even tell she was a faunus. In truth, it was how clean her cheeks were, lacking any soot, dust or mud like the hard-bitten miners. Her clothing too, what little that could be seen, was in contrasting black and white – as opposed to the greys, browns and mottled green of the residents.

The man took a nervous step back. All conversation came to a sudden halt, and the sound of music trailed off. In the corner, a pair of dice clicked against a table as they fell, but no one dared collect any winnings when all eyes were on her.

The message was clear. They were no longer safe, and she was no longer welcome.

"Huntress," the bartender greeted, his voice wary and measured but in no way warm like it had been when discussing his cider. Not surprising- barely a day ago he'd been picking customers up off the floor after her partner had put them there. "What can I do for you?"

"Just some food to go," she said, finishing her drink and standing. She didn't bother drawing her hood back up, and the man wordlessly brought forth some wrapped packages soon enough. He didn't even ask for payment, but she tossed some lien on the counter anyway and carried them away and to the door. No one challenged her, though her aura tingled as some scowled at her back as she passed.

Whatever they thought of Jaune and Kalie, it seemed they thought worse of the Huntsmen and Huntresses of Beacon for failing them. Whatever good will they'd enjoyed before was lost. As Blake left the tavern and slowly heard the conversation return, she shook her head and pushed into the storm. The stares, whispers, and dirty looks didn't bother her, nor would they bother her team.

After all, the locals couldn't possibly hate them more than they hated themselves.

/-/

Ren half-staggered, half-slumped down onto a rocky outcropping and shook his head. Water, more than he'd ever thought possible, flew off him and splashed around the interior of the cold, dank cave. His body felt weak and heavy and he wanted to lay down and sleep. That was a trap, however. Even he, with his limited knowledge of wilderness survival, knew sleeping when wet would be a bad idea.

"It's a little early but we'll stop here for the night," Jaune said easily. "If I'd gotten any sleep last night, we could keep going," he grumbled. "My bad."

He didn't sound very apologetic. No, his ire seemed to be directed elsewhere, or rather at someone else not present…

"No problem," Ren panted, struggling to catch his breath without clutching his side. He wished that could have come out a little better since he didn't want to suggest a Huntsman like him had less stamina than a civilian, even if he was a hunter. He'd promised himself he would listen to his guide a little more, but call it bravado or something else but the last thing he wanted was to come across as a burden.

A rest sounded wonderful. Though…

"Will we be safe in here?" Ren asked, indicating the cave entrance. Finding a cave had been half the challenge. Finding one that Jaune didn't immediately back away from had been harder.

"We'll be safe. Look," Jaune said, indicating the entrance of the cave. It seemed like a perfectly normal cave entrance to Ren… but maybe that was the point. "It's perfectly dry outside of the raindrop splashes. There's no mud or water trail from a Grimm walking in. There's also a slight slope up, so we won't have to deal with water flowing in during the middle of the night."

That sounded… quite good, actually. Ren probably could have fallen asleep regardless, but he'd appreciate not being woken up wet in the middle. He'd have to remember that observation in the future.

"I don't usually like caves," Jaune continued, "but since most Grimm will have found one already for the weather, and this one is empty, we're probably good. I'll set up some traps just in case, and have my bow ready for the worst, but honestly we shouldn't even need sleep shifts tonight."

That sounded good – especially the suggestion he'd be able to sleep uninterrupted. He hadn't dared take much of it before for fear his Semblance would wane and leave it unprotected. Knowing Jaune didn't need it however, and knowing that the storm would keep the Grimm away, he felt he could take the risk and let it recharge.

"We should get a fire going," Jaune added as well, once they moved in.

"The wood outside wet," Ren said despondently, looking down at his - _Lee Ahn's_ \- bag. The contents were soaked despite his best efforts – and the smoke such a fire would produce might choke them.

"Outside might be," Jaune said. "This isn't." He reached into his pack and a small bit of wood wrapped in some water-proof material, likely a rain coat or something similar. "Tinder, and just enough fire starter to get something else started."

"You've been carrying a block of wood this entire time?" Ren asked, incredulous. Jaune just shrugged.

"Just enough. I knew the monsoon was coming, and I don't like to take chances. You never know when you'll need to start a fire. You know how to do that?"

Ren nodded. "I may be from the city, but I'm not incompetent."

Jaune chuckled. "Show me what you got, city boy."

The fire took a few too many tries to get going, much to his embarrassment. That was mostly due to how his hands were soaked and shaking slightly in the cool, but not cold, night air. Summer was summer, but wet and humid nights weren't necessarily warm. Even with them being in the cover of a cave, the wind slipped through in places, threatening to snuff out the small sparks he was able to generate.

In the end, though, he proved his perseverance the greater and was able to cultivate a flame without Jaune needing to step in. that grew into a campfire he could be proud of. Even his critical friend was forced to agree, warming his hands near it and basking in the heat.

"Lay out some extra sticks from outside near it," Jaune suggested. "They might not burn tonight, but they'll be nice and toasty come the morning. I'll wrap them up tomorrow."

"You think this storm will continue?" Ren asked.

"Are you kidding me? It's the monsoon. If we see the sun in the next seven days, we'll be lucky. It won't always be this hard, but it's going to be wet. Normally I'd say we don't want to travel in this even if you're familiar with the area. But we're in extenuating circumstances, and the rain keeping the Grimm indoors makes it the best time for us to get out of the Grimmlands."

Ren could believe it, since the rain was sheeting down with enough force to cut off all vision a foot or more in front of the face. Considering the quantity of it, some of the nearby rivers and streams must also have started to overflow, which meant the landscape could have been incredibly treacherous.

He brought a hand up to his hair and started to wring it dry, but was stopped by an unkind chuckle.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," was all Jaune said.

"What?" Ren asked.

Jaune pointed, Ren looked down, and saw immediately. Already the puddle of water pooling beneath him was flowing downhill… right towards the part of the wall he'd placed his bag. Already the clothes he'd laid out to dry were being re-soaked by the water source that was him.

Ren hurried to move the clothes out of the slowly growing puddle, even as Jaune's chuckle at his expense echoed in the chamber. Jaune made no move to help, and started fumbling with his own bag.

Ren froze when a pair of trousers slapped wetly down onto the rock beside him – followed immediately after by underwear and the leather jacket. Was Jaune-? He heard footsteps come up beside him and flinched, keeping his eyes fixed at the wall straight ahead.

"W-What are you doing!?" he whispered. In his head, it sounded loud in this small cave.

He flinched again when the silhouette a bare body appeared on the wall beside him, illuminated by the fire before Jaune knelt back down near his backpack.

"Our clothes are soaked," Jaune said, not unreasonably. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to wring them out." So saying, he held up his jacket between both hands and gave it a squeeze and a twist, releasing a stream of water. It splashed below and ran from the cave mouth to join the flood outside.

It also reminded Ren of just how soaked his own clothing was. The thin linens did much to allow freedom of movement, but currently felt like they were sticking to his legs and arms.

Jaune noticed. "Don't tell me you're going to sit in them all night?" he asked. "You'll catch something."

"I'll wring them out and hang them to dry when I go to sleep," he said.

"Might as well do that now. Might still be damp in the morning."

Yes, there really was no reason not to. Still, he hesitated.

"Don't tell me you're shy." Jaune laughed. When Ren failed to respond, his eyes widened. "Wait, you are? Ha!"

Even if it was at his expense, it may have been the first sincere laugh he'd heard from the other boy all day.

"Some brave Huntsman you are," Jaune needled. "Afraid of lil' old me? Come on, we're both men here, right? Afraid to see something you'll like?"

Ren's eyes closed as he let out a long sigh, and tapped his inner semblance just briefly. Though Jaune hadn't phrased it as such, there had been many times where people accused him of being a girl, often for his slight frame and pink eyes. He had a feeling if he brought that up, Jaune's would see it as an opening for something worse.

Reluctantly, he started to peel off his clothing. There was nothing wrong about it but he still felt embarrassed, and quickly brought out his sleeping blanket to cover himself he wrung his clothes out- even though that inevitably made the blanket wet too. A small price for modesty.

Jaune didn't seem to have any such restraint, though thankfully he didn't feel a need to walk in front of Ren to prove it. When Ren turned Jaune had already changed, wearing simple burlap pants and a plain long-sleeved shirt along with what looked to be… hand-knit socks? At the very least he almost seemed happy with himself, a small smile on his face and even humming as he sat near the fire easily. Ren huddled opposite, trying to keep his eyes on the flickering flames and nothing else. His stomach grumbled painfully.

"If the weather were a bit clearer I could hunt for food," Jaune said, catching the sound. "Nothing like fire-cooked boar on a night like this. Maybe a roast sparrow too…" He paused to sigh wistfully, and Ren felt his own mouth water. "Tomorrow, then. We'll have to make do with those emergency rations tonight," he said, drawing a bag forth from the supplies they'd caught off the Bullhead.

"I guess so," Ren agreed miserably. He knew what they tasted like, of course, and while any sustenance would be welcome right now, some would have been more welcome than others. He caught the bag and tore the top open.

The contents were dry, brittle, but packed with calories. They didn't taste like much, and what little it did was some terrible amalgamation of fake meat and stale bread. It was something, however, and since Jaune made no mention of rationing, he helped himself to the entire contents even though Jaune only poked at his. While he ate, Jaune spoke, almost contemplatively.

"We might as well sleep as much as we can tonight. I wasn't exactly at my best today thanks to Cardin and his idiots. Even I get bad after two days without sleep," he said casually, even as Ren turned an eye to him quickly. He hadn't noticed anything…

"Give me another, and I start hallucinating. Might as well reset the clock now. That's a warning, though," Jaune added, looking Ren in the eye. "Today was taking it easy. We're going to be pushing from tomorrow onwards."

They hadn't been already? Ren hid a wince at his side as he began to massage a leg with one hand.

"That's fine with me," he replied, finishing his ration. His legs ached and stung, and that was just the muscles from today. "I can keep up. I want to get out of this place as much as you."

"I doubt that."

"You think I want to be here?" Ren asked, somewhere between a deadpan and a challenge.

"I don't think you understand how bad I want us out of here," Jaune said, before sighing and moving to his hands and knees so he could crawl closer. Ren backed up a little, uncertain what the other teen was doing, but Jaune instead picked up a loose twig from their firewood pile and used it to sketch something into the dust on the stone floor. Rather than a map, it seemed to be a crude series of circles.

"It's not your fault," Jaune granted, though he did so grudgingly. "They don't teach you about how Grimm work out here, probably because they only want you to look after the city and surrounding area where Grimm territory is messed up due to human presence. I'll show you what my Uncle taught me."

Ren leaned forward, more eager than he thought he would be for such knowledge. It had already cost him dearly and he didn't want to make the same mistake again.

Jaune drew a circle, with a small mark in the middle.

"This is ground Grimm territory," he said, pointing at the circle. "Whether it's a single Grimm or a pack of the same type, Grimm on their own act like most other territorial animals. They pick a spot they like- usually one that's comfortable and easy for them- and claim it for themselves. Grimm territory is usually, unless the terrain doesn't make sense, cantered around the nest." The small mark in the middle. "Grimm rarely leave their territory, and spend most of their time closest to the nest or the comfortable spots. They spend less time around the edges, marking the limits of their territory on the outside. Bigger Grimm or more Grimm have more territory, but again spend most of their time in the centre, not the edges. However, if _any_ of the Grimm of a pack are alerted to a human in their territory, all the pack knows soon enough, even if they're not in direct line of sight. To avoid that, avoid them and just go around or stick to the edges of their territory. Obvious enough?"

Ren nodded, though he saved questions for another time. How did you know what the territory was? What did different types of Grimm find important? How did the Grimm of a pack communicate? He figured he could find out more if he waited.

Jaune drew another circle near, but not overlapping, the first circle.

"This is more Grimm territory. Everyone knows that Grimm are territorial against animals, and will kill them if, say, a wolf pack moves into a Beowolf den. But most people don't know that Grimm are 'softly' territorial against each other. They don't fight, but they generally don't like to live together either. So, in most cases, Grimm will take the next convenient spot over and ignore each other. They don't really socialize or do house calls, but stay in their area and don't bother each other. Unless humans are spotted, in which case Grimm A can freely enter Grimm B's territory." Jaune drew a simple line from the first circle to the next, showing movement. "When Grimm territory is close enough, if Grimm A is alerted, Grimm B can be alerted as well, even if it's not their territory. Usually this is just what you'd expect- if there's loud sounds of combat, or the Grimm lets out a loud cry, and so on. They'll both chase as long as they have a good track of the target, though that's usually less than a ridgeline. It is possible to run away from Grimm if you can break line of sight. Despite their animal nature, they don't have senses as sharp as their animal equivalents."

Ren nodded. It did make sense. Grimm knew gunshots weren't natural, and at the very least would investigate. The times one Grimm fight would lead to another sometimes seemed random, but nothing Jaune said seemed outlandish. Even the part about Grimm senses. Honestly, Ren had figured out that much himself when he developed his semblance.

Jaune wiped out his first line, showing Grimm movement. Then he drew a line between the two circles, in the gap where there was no overlap.

"The key to surviving out here is to go _between_ Grimm territory whenever possible," Jaune explained. "If neither Grimm A or Grimm B notices you, neither will chase and neither will alert the other. There's almost always a way to bypass the Grimm if you're patient."

 _Patience,_ Ren underscored in his notes.

"Water and amphibious Grimm work the same way, I think," Jaune added. "Pure-water Grimm like sea-dragons aren't exactly competing for caves, but you can tell when amphibious Grimm are setting up in a lake when other animals and Grimm refuse to go near it. If you see deer sipping at creeks rather than the side of a lake, it's a pretty good sign something is living in the shallows. Stay away from deep water, even inland lakes If the wildlife won't touch it, it's for a reason." Jaune warned.

Ren dutifully wrote that down.

Then Jaune drew a new circle that overlapped both of the previous circles. This circle wasn't a circle, though. Instead of smooth curves, erratic jagged edges marked it as something completely distinct.

"You can forget everything I just said for air-Grimm," Jaune said.

"Huh?" Ren asked. "But you said-"

"Air Grimm - or flying Grimm in general, really - aren't limited by terrain, and don't compete with ground-Grimm for territory," Jaune said. "Gryphons might, but they're kind of a hybrid special case. Never mind them. For things like Nevermore, though, a Nevermore can nest right above a Boarbatusk burrow, and neither will care. They're not competing for the same things. Air-Grimm also have ranging territory so wide, it's pretty much impossible to know when you're entering it, or where they'll be at any given time. They might be at their nest, or they might be stretching their wings miles away. To make it worse, they have the same sort of 'alarm' system with the Grimm territory they overlap. If air-Grimm you, they have a chance of alerting the ground-Grimm their territory overlaps and starting a multi-pack chase, even if those ground-Grimm are actually far apart." He poked the air-Grimm territory, then each of the ground-Grimm circles, and then drew another circle far away from the first two. "Only a chance, though. Air-Grimm territory is so wide, they might be too far away to notice."

That made sense, but how would air-Grimm alert far-away ground Grimm in the first place? What could it be- pheromones on the wind?

"One question," he asked. "Ground-Grimm, air-Grimm, water-Grimm… where did all these terms come from? Don't you just use words like Beowolves, Nevermore and such?"

"Not so much. The specifics might matter to you Huntsmen since you want to kill them and need to know how they fight, but to those trying to make a living or avoid them the only thing that matters is how they move. Ground, air or water. That's all that matters to a Hunter or frontiersmen."

It made sense, he supposed. No use wondering about names when you needed to know where the immediate threat was coming from. "Then how do you avoid them?" Ren asked, and Jaune looked up and shot an almost pleased grin. Right answer- or rather, right question?

"Stick to the trees and avoid the ground-Grimm territory," Jaune said, pointing at the two circles again. "Air Grimm are a hassle, but they don't have especially good senses. What Beowolves lack in smell, air Grimm usually lack in eyes. They might see someone moving in the middle of an open field or empty road, but start breaking vision with trees and they're usually too far away to catch wind of you. What makes avian Grimm dangerous isn't their eyesight, but their ability to reinforce a ground Grimm pack very quickly once alerted, and their ability to alert a lot more ground Grimm in turn. Some Huntsmen prioritize hunting Nevermore nests and the like over ground Grimm, since taking down the avian Grimm will leave the individual Grimm packs isolated and less likely to help each other." He poked the first two circles as cases where reinforcement would occur, but the third distant circle wouldn't."

That seemed like very useful information if Ren ever went on a Grimm-extermination mission in the future, and probably something that Professor Port might have alluded to in one of his taller tales. But Jaune was also frowning as he looked at the circles, and Ren could tell he wasn't saying everything.

"You don't agree?" Ren guessed.

It was clear by his expression that Jaune didn't, though there was no heat in his answer.

"It's not wrong, but it's usually not worth the hassle," Jaune said. "If it's near a settlement, fine. I've done that myself. Nothing loosens up a Grimm threat on a village like killing the Nevermore calling in every Grimm for miles. But that's pretty hard. Trying to find a Nevermore nest in kilometres of forest is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You never know if it's here, here, or right in the middle of ground-Grimm territory," he said, poking around the bigger zone, before pausing. "Plus, purging Grimm just makes things worse afterwards."

Ren blinked, honestly taken aback.

"But… they're dead," Ren said, unable to put it to any other words. Jaune just rolled his eyes.

"For a while, yeah, but they'll be back. Days, weeks, months, a year or two… they'll be back."

"But they'll be weaker," Ren said, thinking of the Deathstalker and Giant Nevermore from initiation. Those had been no small fight- and future initiates would be safer for not having to deal with them. "Grimm only get stronger and more dangerous the longer they're alive."

Jaune just looked at him, though, before taking a finger and pointing it at the cave entrance.

"See that?" he asked rhetorically. "If an Ursa Major came in there when I was asleep, and you weren't here, what do you think would happen?"

"You'd die," Ren said, daring to be honest. Jaune was competent… but he'd already admitted more than once he didn't like caves for a reason. Competent or not, he was still a civilian, not a combatant.

"If it caught me, yeah," Jaune said, not offended at all. "Now what do you think would happen if it was an Ursa cub?"

"You'd- I see your point," Ren conceded. If it caught him, by luck or otherwise, Jaune would still die.

Jaune hold it against him. "Grimm don't turn into Alphas by Majors just by age, or else the world would be full of nothing but elites by now anyway. The difference between an elite Grimm and baby-Grimm might be a big deal for you Hunters, but for most of us it doesn't matter. We'll be just as dead. Now, that said…" he reached down, and brushed away the circles he'd previously drawn.

He looked at Ren, blue eyes frank but not severe.

"Which do you think scares me more - established Grimm that have been in the same place for decades, with plenty of time to mark their territory in really obvious ways, or new young Grimm that weren't there six months ago and who haven't had time to make clear who runs the place?"

Ren looked back. "I doubt you're afraid of either," he said.

Jaune smiled. "Good answer," he accepted. "But even I don't like it when tiny deathstalkers try to claw open my sleeping bag in the middle of my man-cave."

Ren shot a look to the cavern entrance, and back to Jaune.

"You call this your man cave?" Ren asked, deadpan.

"Skitter-skitter," Jaune replied, a hint of smile on his face.

Ren didn't return it, though a hint of something touched the corners of his lips. A shake of the head cleared it soon enough. There was the Ursa in the room, so to speak.

"What about Mouk?" he asked.

Jaune's slight smile fell, and the temperature dropped just at the mention of the name. Wordlessly he got up, picking up the stick, and dragging it behind him. He was halfway around the room before Ren realized he was tracing a circle around the entire fire, and both of them.

"That-" Jaune said, gesturing towards the small circles from before, "is a Beowolf pack. This," he said, throwing his arms open to encompass most the room, "is Mouk's domain."

Ren stayed silent, not sure how to respond.

"I called Mouk a Duke. It's really the best thing that fits," Jaune said. "All this region - _all_ of it, the Lunar Cry Mountains, the river valleys, the Southern Pass - is Mouk's territory. He just lets other Grimm live in it, unless he decides to step in their watering hole or knock down their nest or so on. Mouk goes where he wants, when he wants, and no other Grimm here would stop him."

Jaune walked back to the smaller circles from before, and air-Grimm box from before. "You can kind of think of him like an avian Grimm on steroids. He's not competing for territory. He goes where he wants. And the worst thing, even more than his own fat ass…" Jaune drew lines connecting the circles together, and then linking them to a crude makeshift bear. "When any Grimm in Mouk's domain senses someone and lets out an alert, Mouk will know. Eventually. And when Mouk knows, _every_ Grimm in his territory will know soon enough as well. They may not come, but if they do… they'll run up mountains, they'll jump down cliffs, they'll do anything he wants to, if he wants them to. Don't ask me how, don't ask me why, but that's what it means to be in the Grimmlands, and not just the abandoned frontier. The Grimmlands are where one Grimm can command hundreds, and rule with a stronger claim than any kingdom."

Jaune looked back at Ren, eye to eye, perfectly serious.

"We call Grimm like _him_ Overlord Grimm, and the only reason we were as safe as we were today was because Mouk drew all the other Grimm in the region down south because of Cardin last night."

Ren took that in, and realized an implication.

"When I rushed the Grimm at the bullhead," he began, a nervous chill going down his spine.

Jaune nodded, but serious eyes gave way to a shrug soon enough. "When a mountain didn't bulldoze the forest in the first three minutes, I figured we got them before they could let off an alarm." His steely gaze centred on Ren soon enough, though. "But that was luck, not skill. We could have been just as unlucky if a Nevermore had happened to be flying around. Don't do it again," he warned. "Like my Uncle says, 'Never leave to chance what you don't have to.'"

"I won't," Ren promised, the belated realization of a near-death experience passing by.

"Then we're good," Jaune said, dropping it as easily as that. "We took a risk, and got a good payoff. It was worth it for the bag and the supplies. But now I hope you realize why I want to get out of here as fast as possible," he said. "The sooner we're out of Mouk's domain, the sooner we'll be somewhere where running into a single Grimm won't bring packs and packs and an unstoppable juggernaut chasing after us. On the frontier, you can fight your way through a Grimm fight. In the Grimmlands, it's suicide."

"Thank you," Ren said sincerely. "I think I understand now."

"Huh? Well, uh" Jaune said, taken aback at the simple gratitude. "Well… good. Just trust me and don't be stupid, and we'll get you out of here alive," he said, awkwardly ending the lesson and cleaning his dirtied hands outside

As he did, Ren thought about what he'd learned. This definitely wasn't something they'd taught in Beacon… but then, that didn't mean they wouldn't have. He'd only been there about six months, after all. Just one semester.

Still, it was interesting. And he would have been interested in learning it sooner. Grimm classes had focused on types and abilities, categorizations and combat abilities, but little about their habits. Beacon taught Huntsmen how to kill Grimm, not how Grimm lived.

Port and Oobleck would probably have been enthused to share such knowledge, but he hadn't even thought to ask. And to be honest, if someone had offered him the chance to sit half-naked in a cave with them to learn the secrets of the Grimm, he probably would have passed. He missed his warm bed back in Beacon, and his friends. Nora, Pyrrha, and…

"What's on your mind?" Jaune asked, walking back from the cave door and shaking his hands. Ren noticed the traps were still outside, but Jaune was holding one of the water bottles they'd set up outside.

"No one," Ren denied, even as Jaune walked back to the fire. "Tell me about Mouk," he asked, even as Jaune lowered himself down.

"What about him?"

"Anything. You said you know him, and that he had a name. There must be stories about him. Are there any about where he came from, or how he got here?" An idea came to him, and he scrambled for his backpack. "In fact, wait a second. Would it be okay if I wrote some of this down? If we make it out of here, people in Vale would want to know about this. Your legends might hold clues."

He half-expected Jaune to turn him down, but the hunter shrugged, though he looked darkly at Ren's pad of paper, as if suspicious.

"I doubt it, but if you want," Jaune conceded. "There's like half a dozen legends about Mouk off the top of my head, and a lot of them get in the way of each other. Don't go treating this like it's all true," he warned.

"That's fine," Ren assured, remembering something he once read. "Oral tradition is inherently unreliable, given that it's told my memory over generations. It's actually natural for primitive cultures-"

Alright, definitely the wrong choice of words, but at least Jaune didn't interject or start huffing at him.

"-to have a number of different variations of a legend. What's important is what they have in common," Ren said. "If each account has even just the slightest grains of truth behind them, then identifying where they agree can give us shared understanding of the past everyone tried to remember, right?"

Jaune seemed to buy that, and didn't make an issue.

"Alright, but just one for now," he said, waiting for Ren to fumble with his notepad and pen. In the end he settled for using his own memoir- 'diary,' Nora had called it- and flicked to the back so that he could write it in there.

"This is old legend, mind," Jaune warned before he began. "I heard it from my Uncle's Brother's Neighbour's friend when I was eleven or so. I don't put a lot of stock in it myself, and lot of it might be weird. If you interrupt before I'm done, I'll be turning in for the night."

"I'll listen," Ren promised, pen placed against paper.

"Okay, I guess. You asked for it. I suppose it all began long, long ago…"

/-/

 _Long, long ago, when gods walked with men and Remnant was still Whole…_

 _When the Grimm Night fell, and the First Civilization began to crumble, not all the gods abandoned their creations. When humans and faunus alike struggled to survive the Grimm, they were aided by Those Who Remained, the gods and goddesses who had not turned their backs on man on faunus-kind. Chief and chieftess among them was the Selene, Guardian of the Hunt and Goddess of the Moon._

 _Selene was a True Huntress, maybe the first, and had long been a patron of hunters and protector of those lost at night. Hers was the power to give light in the darkness, and show the most desperate of souls hope. A heroine for the wretched, Selene was said to flout the rules of men and gods alike in order to help those in need, always willing to guide lost souls to safety. She carried a magical bow with no quiver, shooting only arrows of her own light, and her shots were said to be the greatest weapon against the darkness. When the Grimm Night fell Selene fought when other gods fled into the void, and when the Grimm swept the lands she hid amongst the stars above them. From up high her shots were beacons of hope for the lost and searching alike, and when the Heavenly Towers fell Selene offered her own celestial body as refuge for the remaining gods to rally. For a time Selene's Celestial Kingdom hung high in the sky carrying all the hopes of Remnant, as the gods watched from above and intervened where they could._

 _But down below, the Grimm Night never lifted. As the civilization crumbled, the First Empire rotted with corruption and cruelty. Wicked rulers gave birth to wrath and greed in equal measure, worst among them Mouk._

 _Mouk back then was not the monster he is now, but even then he was more beast than man, still huge and hugely ambitious. Mouk was a distant relative of the Emperor, and as was his right he wore a gift of the old gods, from back when the gods and Empire were on good terms and inclined to exchange such gifts. Mouk's gift was a cloak that granted invincibility that he wove into his skin, and with it he cheated to win many feats of strength and daring. Though his skin might burn and his eyes might cry, he would never die and only grow stronger from each adversity. With the gift of the old gods, where were not as benevolent as later gods, Mouk won many battles and much glory for himself even as the world fell into ruin._

 _Mouk was always ambitious, and always glutenous, and as his power grew so did his appetites for power and flesh. Mouk, you see, had developed a taste for faunus flesh and human hearts, as had become custom in those dark times. As the Empire crumbled Mouk was known to feast on the refugees, arranging great hunts for sport and pleasure._

 _This brought him into conflict with Selene more than once, as the moon goddess took to watching Mouk's movements and stealing his prey by guiding them away by night. Selene's silver arrows could not kill Mouk from afar due to the magic cloak that he never took off, but Mouk could never catch Selene no matter how he tried. When he sought, she hid in the sky. When he chased, she flew across the horizon. Never could he catch her, no matter how many times she left him with an empty stomach, and in time Mouk burned with something even he did not know, something worse than respect._

 _For a time they were at a stalemate, and Mouk came to fixate over Selene the Moon Goddess. Perhaps it was love, or simply obsession, but Mouk was always looking up at the moon that looked down at him, wondering when he would see his old foe next._

 _Black heart burning with a feeling he could not understand, Mouk went to his Uncle and begged assistance._

 _"Oh, Emperor of the Forgotten Sea!" he called. "Help your favored nephew, for I am at my wits end! Though my strength is supreme and none can stand against me in honest combat, this woman defies me time and time again! The moon itself hunts me, hanging over my head and haunting my sleep! I have even lost my appetite, even as it steals my pray! Give me your strength and wisdom, oh Uncle, so that I might finally reach her and claim all that I desire! You who tamed the Witches and stood against silver-warriors and sit secure upon your throne against the pressure of the world, I demand you give me more power so that I might drink the grief of her tears!"_

 _The Emperor's first response was to lash out and knock Mouk down in a single blow, for though Mouk was mighty the most wicked Emperor was all-powerful and would not let such impudent demands go unchallenged, even by his own offspring. But since Mouk shared a certain sort of ambition, the sort that drives monsters to devour men and dominate their lands, and because Mouk in truth WAS favored despite not being of his own line, the heartless Emperor shared his wisdom._

 _"Selene's weakness is her compassion and her courage," he hissed into Mouk's ear. "Let her kindness be the shackle that chains her within your reach by her own volition. Find some pitiful soul, but do not devour them. Let them be the bait that brings the Heavenly Huntress down instead, for she will not flee while they may yet be saved. A True Huntress will never abandon others to save herself, even if she could, and that will be how you catch her."_

 _Mouk's eyes glowed and his mouth watered in realization, but before he could speak the Emperor uncaringly swatted him away, sending him tumbling hind over haunch._

 _"Go west past the shield walls and to the upper plateau," the Emperor decreed. "You will find a private territory of mine, which I have not used in some time. It has come to my attention that Selene has trespassed on my old hunting grounds, guiding souls through and poaching my game while she is at it. This will not be allowed to stand. Go, punish these hunters, and deal with the Heavenly Huntress as you desire. If you do I shall grant you the title of Duke, and afterwards let you claim all that you can see."_

 _Mouk accepted, loving both power and the promise of bloodshed. And so Mouk left, leaving the Capital and climbing the shield-walls out of a great river-valley. Mouk came to these part, which were flat then, and established himself as the game warden of the Emperor's Forest. Great hunts of humans were formed, and the hunters hunted, until Mouk found their villages and scattered them like embers. And though Mouk could have stamped them out to the last, he did not, leaving one tribe alive as the Emperor his Uncle had advised him to. Mouk left them alive, though unable to run, and even slew his own men caught up in bloodlust so that the villagers' crippled bodies might cry up to the heavens._

 _"Save us, Lady Selene!" they begged. "Do not forsake your faithful! This promised land you least us to is now naught but a place of nightmares! The abominations thought absent now return to devour us whole! Show us mercy and save us, goddess of our hope! By the compact we swore, come down and save us!"_

 _And Selene, bound by compassion for the most wretched, did, even knowing that Mouk lay in wait._

 _I will not tell you the battle here. It is another tale, for another time, and much too long for now. I will not tell you how Mouk and Selene fought off and on across seven days and seven nights, as Mouk's army lay siege to the villagers so they would not retreat. I will not tell you about the arcs of light that flew across the horizon, or the total massacres of Mouk's host, or the grievous losses the gods suffered in turn. I will not tell you how the moon sagged lower in the sky as the Celestial Kingdom followed Selene, or the forgotten weapons used for the first and last time as the war spread, or how Selene stole a bit of Mouk's cloak and shot an arrow in his eye, blinding him forever more on one side._

 _I will tell you that Selene did indeed save those villagers, if only so you know why anyone knows what happened next._

 _Selene lost, of course._

 _Even the gods needed rest. Even the heroes can fall. And even the moon itself cannot shine at its full luster forever. After a week of fighting, of flying, of never getting to rest, Selene the patron of all hunters could not hide in the sky anymore. Mouk, who had only grown mightier at each attempt to slay him, towered above. They say he reached into the sky, hugged his most hated foe in a moment of weakness, and dragged her down to the earth in a crushing embrace before beginning to devour her. He began with her arm, making her drop her sacred bow and crippling her forever._

 _Selene did not die just then. Her host- her sworn friends and faithful followers- fought tenfold when she fell, and pushed even Mouk back. The other gods then dragged Selene back to her proper place in the sky. They nursed her injuries and bandaged her wounds, but even they could not hide the proof of the Great Defeat. The Moon our goddess was broken, never to be whole again, and each crater on her an eternal proof of Mouk's foul appetite. Selene would survive, but diminished, and without her arm or bow she would never set foot on this Remnant or shoot her sacred arrows of light ever again._

 _The knowledge broke her heart, and as her fellow gods dragged her back into the sky Selene cried for the first and last time that anyone knew. Selene's tears, the proof of being shattered, fell from the heavens with the weight of all the hopes and dreams that she had carried. The crashed here, on this very plateau that was once a plane, and struck Mouk himself with the force off all the hopes he had dashed and devoured between his teeth. They broke the flatlands and created the hills, and that is why this area is called the Lunar Cry Mountains._

 _Mouk survived, of course, and went on to drink Selene's tears as he said he would. He was the winner that day. But even he was taken aback, and the followers of Selene- the very people he had held hostage to goad their goddess into battle- had the last word as they too were taken to the heavens along with their goddess._

 _"We curse you oh great Mouk, ruiner of hopes and devour of the Celestial Queen!" they cried. "Though you shall hence forth be Duke as is your due, you shall forever be nothing more! For what you have taken from us today we will take threefold from you forever, so that our bitter defeat shall be the last time you taste satisfaction!"_

 _Mouk cared not a wit about them, dismissing them entirely as he feasted on Selene's flesh and tears, but it was because he was careless that he did not realize that their curses were already taking effect._

 _"Our first curse, oh ambitious Mouk- as you have taken our lady's arm, we shall keep your eye! Claim all that you can see, oh Duke, but know that it shall only ever be half of what you once might have. In this way your ambition shall never be satisfied, and you shall always be blind to what happens in half of your domain."_

 _And so it was that Mouk's eye never recovered, no matter the remedy, and over the ages sneak-thiefs and clever poachers learned to steal from his lands when his head was turned the other way._

 _"Our second curse, oh glutenous Mouk- as you have feasted on the flesh of our goddess, may nothing else fill you again! Live a life of gluttony if you wish, but gorge as you might you will never be filled. The finest feasts and darkest despairs will taste as ash in your mouth, as filling as night soil from the graves. The corpse of our goddess shall be all that ever fills the void inside you, beast, but you shall never reach her ever again."_

 _And so it was that Mouk felt a grave hunger, and collapsed on all fours as a terrible thirst overcame him. For a time he subsisted on Selene's tears and arm, but when the flesh was picked clean and all that was left was a temple of bones, the duke began to degrade himself in a maddening hunger. He tasted topsoil and sipping from streams in a bid to fill a constant emptiness, but nothing satisfied. To this day Mouk wanders in search of anything that might fill him, even more fragments of Selene's wound, and looks into the night sky in burning hunger._

 _"Our final curse, oh covetous Mouk- as you wished to claim our Queen Selene for your own, may the only part of her you claim be that which is in your belly! Know to the last of your days and the end of your sight that you shall never have her ever again. Let it be that every time you look up into the sky, you see her above and know that no matter your strength, you shall never drag down the symbol of our hope."_

 _And so it was that Mouk realized that Selene would never return to this world. In that realization he cried in a jealous rage, and donned the mask he wears to this day. For while Selene floated well above, as if taunting, he would never get a chance to finish their battle. To this day Mouk waits in a house of Selene's bones, the remains of her arm, hoping that she might come close enough to Remnant that he might bring her down once more._

 _But of course, he never will. For Selene, the Goddess of the Moon and patron of hunters and once hope of the world, now stays far above while sharing her light for the good of all the Remnant._

/-/

Ren finished his notes with a full stop, looking up to Jaune as he stopped speaking. The tale had been a long one, and even longer with the pauses necessary for him to write it down, but the time spent had allowed the heat from the fire to drift about the cave and he felt warm, if not entirely comfortable. Compared to how he'd felt before, it was a vast improvement, as even the pain in his fingers distracted from worse pains elsewhere.

"And that's about it," Jaune said. "Like I said- not the most useful, except the parts that are. Like trying to take Mouk head on," he hinted, looking at Ren meaningfully.

Ren didn't react to that. After earlier, he'd be just as fine avoiding the walking mountain-bear. (Or would it be bear-mountain?)

"It's certainly interesting," Ren said instead, starting to put away his notes. "Do you believe much of it?"

"Do you really think me that backward?" Jaune asked, tone hardening. "Of course I don't. I told you it was weird. I'm not actually saying Grimm talk to each other like people with noble titles and crap."

Ren tried not to wince, though the reason that was hard wasn't because of Jaune. "Forgive me. That's not what I meant," he said, trying to restore his guide's mood. "That was poorly worded. I meant, are there parts of it you believe? Like the gods of the Celestial Kingdom?"

Jaune looked him suspiciously for a moment longer, but answered honestly enough.

"I'm not religious or anything, if that's what you mean," Jaune said. "I don't pray to the moon goddess to guide my steps at night like my Uncle does. People who follow the old ways are pretty rare, even out here. I don't know if gods ever existed in the past or not, but I don't care much either. I'd rather put my faith in real people than some magical kingdom on the moon full of amazing people who can't be bothered to do anything." His eyes narrowed a bit, but not at Ren. "I'd be pretty pissed if people like that existed but chose not to do anything all this time."

That, at least, Ren could understand… but he didn't dwell. "But don't you think it'd be interesting if they did exist, once upon a time?" he asked. "I mean, just think… a kingdom on the moon. Why? How? Where did they come? Where did they go? If creators existed, why did they leave?"

"Don't know. Don't care," Jaune said curtly, but the yawn that followed hinted at the heart of the reason. "I just know the real moral of the story is 'don't fuck with Mouk, even if you're a god.' Clear enough?"

There was so much of the legend that wasn't, but Ren sensed asking more probably wouldn't be well received. Not that he could expect Jaune to give real answers anyway. It was just a fairy tale made to explain something already here. In that, it made perfect sense.

"Clear enough," Ren agreed. "It's easy to dismiss such legends, but they may well have grains of truth within them. I'll certainly agree to your plan on Mouk. I'd rather not have to deal with him."

Jaune gave a low hum, neither agreeing or disagreeing but hinting it was probably time to call it a night. They didn't exactly have a companionable silence stretching between them, but it was a far cry better than what they'd had before. If nothing else, they'd spoken for fifteen minutes or more without an argument, jibe, or insult traded between them.

It was progress. Not much, but still progress. Just one foot after the other, until they got out of here.

"We should sleep while we can," Jaune said, shifting to the side and dragging his pack to a corner of the cave. "We'll be pushing hard tomorrow, to get out of Mouk's domain before he finds us. No excuses tomorrow if you drag your weight, hunter-boy."

"I won't," Ren promised, pushing over to his side. Their sleeping spots were not too far from the fire and he could still feel its reassuring heat on his back. Even so, he was faced with an immediate problem in the form of the blanket he had drawn over him to cover his modesty. It was now wet through and would not make for a good rest.

He stared down at it and cursed silently. If only he'd thought that through he wouldn't be in this situation, and the last thing he wanted was to ask Jaune for assistance. That would just lead to a sharp – and well-deserved - rebuke. He sighed and laid the wet bedding out regardless. The most he could hope for was that it would dry in the night.

Something soft struck the back of his head, knocking him forward and closer to the fire.

"Sleep in that," Jaune said, even as Ren's semblance was jumping too late the unexpected contact. He should have expected that. He should have _sensed_ that, or at least his aura. Was he that tired?

Ren drew the offending item in front of him and stared at it. "Isn't this your sleeping bag?"

"Yeah. That a problem?" Jaune challenged, rolling over to expose his back and nothing else. "Not good enough for you?"

"No, it's not that, it's-" Ren paused for a breath, composing himself with a dash of semblance. "What will you sleep in?" It wouldn't do if the guide was the worse off of the two.

"I'll be fine like this," the hunter said, moving his mostly fire-dried hoodie over him. "Hardly the first time. I'm used to it, you're not, simple as that. I'd hardly expect a city-boy like you to know how to rough it out."

While that was true, it was still a generous act and Ren looked over to the blond cautiously, wondering if he would demand it back. He wasn't afraid to admit that he was weak and cold, and that the constant use of his Semblance had sapped his reserves greatly. The added warmth wouldn't only be appreciated; it would be necessary.

Maybe Jaune sensed his hesitation.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm only doing so you don't become useless otherwise," Jaune said gruffly, refusing to face him. "The next few days are going to feel like weeks, and I just don't want to hear any stupid excuses when you can't keep up, that's all."

It made sense.

"You won't," Ren promised. He might have had to learn some humility today, but he still had his pride. A Huntsman wasn't much good if a little bruising from a landing strategy was all it took to fall behind a civilian. "Thank you, Jaune."

The blond scoffed and didn't say anything, but Ren knew he'd heard it – if only because he heard the man grumble something about `idiot Hunters` from the other side of the fire. After he lay out his wet blanket as a makeshift pillow to dry by the fire, he burrowed himself into Jaune's and closed his eyes, not even minding the smell.

It was the first time in three days he'd been able to sleep without fearing for his life.

* * *

 **Quick Coeur Note: Yes, we know about the religion of the Brothers, etc, but I'm fairly sure Rooster Teeth confirmed that there were many religions in Remnant.**

* * *

 **CF's Notes:**

 **I swear Coeur only wrote 9k before I got this. Then I had to write the legend, and Grimm exposition dump… (Coeur: Hey now – only because I assumed you'd make it 1-2,000 words, not 7,000!)**

 **So, Grimm mechanics laid out. Honestly pretty much all this story was laid out as early as S2, so if some things seem anachronistic… oh well. Chalk it up to the minor AU that is this story. How the Grimm work together was something that interested me at the time, and this is what it became. This is the rough framework to understand this worldbuilding when it comes to Grimm.**

 **But, on the other side of things, we get our post-mission disaster look at Team RWBY. Not looking so well, girls. I'm sure Ren will walk in the door any day now and make everything all better. Any… day…**

 **If it wasn't clear already, RWBY and Beacon are collectively the Beta plot to Jaune and Ren's alpha-plot. Ren and Jaune are the focus of the story, and honestly originally the story was only about them. Beacon is what keeps it from being a pure sausage fest, but the tradeoff here is that certain plot and character elements are tied to the Alpha plot rather than the convenience of the Beta plot. Who is Jaune's mysterious sister? What is her real name if it isn't 'Jewels'? Why does everyone who should really honestly know this stuff and talk about it as open knowledge speak so obliquely about it?**

 **Because this is fiction, and the nature of this fiction is that if this were animation, Jaune's semi-mysterious sister would still be the character shrouded in shadow and never quite appearing on screen. Kind of how slow burn/gradual development/'secret past' characters get developed. You 'could' expose all the backstory in five minutes, but then you'd be ruining all the narrative suspense/ambiguity/a whole lot of spoilers for what are ultimately character-driven development stories. Rest assured, once certain elements are revealed they will no doubt conveniently and instantly become open knowledge amongst the rest of everyone involved. But for the moment, 'Jewels' can no more be identified by name than Ren or Jaune are willing to address her, and that will take character development on their end before she can be an active character herself.**

 **So, in the meantime, I plead your patience, and… shiney! Distraction! How about dat legend? Clearly nothing significant in it what so ever!**

 **So, funny story… except for the fact that the legend finally got written for the first time in the 12 hours before posting, this was how the legend was 'supposed' to be the first time- as a stand alone/all italics/honest to god short-story-in-a-story. When Coeur wrote that first legend awhile ago, where CRDL is interrupting every few lines, I'd actually meant to tell him to cut that part of the chapter out and leave the legend for the next chapter that I could write in the next week. But I didn't, so he posted it, and it was… not bad, actually very good, but not what I'd intended.**

 **Coeur and I talked about legends early on in the story development, and this is what I was thinking of at the time. The story obviously no relevance to the main story what so ever [/obvious lie], but works as its own sort of stand-alone legend for Remnant. Even if you didn't have this plot, you could maybe find a book in the Beacon library and pull out the story of the Ursa Who Ate the Moon.**

 **That's what this is. Hope it's enjoyable.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 15th December**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	8. Chapter 8

**II swear this was already over 10k when I got it. I tried to make a short plan for Coeur, I swear!**

* * *

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

* * *

It was an odd scratching sound that woke Ren up.

His eyes blinked at the rocky ceiling of the cave above, and he struggled to recall where he was or why he'd be in a cave in the first place. Memories rushed back the same moment his aches did, pain from sleeping on hard rock and from the cold that had seeped into his bones despite the sleeping bag and fire.

But the scratching continued – and as the severity of the situation struck, Ren shot into a sitting position. Claws on stone? On rock? Had Grimm reached them?

The scratching stopped.

"You're awake." Jaune said, nearby and fully clothed once more. He was sitting on the other side of the dead embers with that looked to be a notebook or diary before him. Though Ren couldn't see the pages, he noticed how oddly Jaune gripped the pencil. Was he sketching something?

Did it matter?

"I guess I am," he said. "No Grimm came?" It really shouldn't have been a question, and he almost expected the obvious retort, but Jaune passed on it this time.

"Not in this weather. It's still raining out." Jaune's words drew his attention to the shower outside. It wasn't quite as fierce as it had been the night before, but only because of the lack of wind. It was still a near-solid sheet of water, but it fell downwards instead of diagonal.

Kind of like Jaune's expression, really, which had only dropped further since Ren had awoken.

"Get up and get dressed. We've already wasted enough daylight today already. We'll move out as soon as you're ready."

"In this weather?" Ren looked out again. True, it was light enough the see the rain now, but… a shiver passed through him just at the prospect of emerging once more.

"Yes. Now get dressed." The hunter made it a command this time and Ren followed it, huddling his blanket – or Jaune's, he supposed – close to his body as he drew the dry clothes nearby. He changed beneath the blankets and ignored his companion's roll of the eyes.

Once he was done, he passed it to Jaune, who was waiting. Jaune took it and began to put it inside what looked to be a water-proof bag, before pausing and reaching in deeper. Jaune withdrew something and tossed it to him as he returned to stowing the blanket. "Here, eat this. If you need to do your business, do it now. We're not coming back here, and you'll just get soaked if you wait to do it outside later."

Now that Ren thought about it, there was an odour from the other side of the cave…

"I'm fine," Ren said, deliberately not thinking about it as he opened the measly ration bar from the bullhead and bit into it. It was chewy and thick, packed with artificial protein and carbs. It tasted like cardboard and had the consistency of a car tyre. His stomach protested. "I haven't eaten enough to need to pass anything."

"Is that a complaint, city-boy? We're in the middle of the Grimmlands now. We need to ration what we have. You people of all people should be able to skimp meals."

"It wasn't a complaint." At least he hadn't meant it as one. "And I'll be fine. I won't drag you down."

Jaune shot him a long and clearly doubtful look. "We'll see…"

It looked like his guide and companion was back in fine fettle this morning. He wanted to ask him if he'd woken up on the wrong side of bed, but the answer would have been an obvious yes. Jaune had slept without a blanket so that Ren wouldn't have to. Ren had to remind himself that right or not, Jaune had every reason to be in a poor mood. Jaune wouldn't be out here at all if it wasn't for him getting stuck in the Grimmlands.

Patience wasn't just a virtue here. It was the least he could do, even if Jaune wouldn't appreciate it. He likely wouldn't even notice it, if the way he was talking was any clue.

"We'll be pushing hard today," Jaune warned, even as he picked up his over-sized backpack. It was significantly larger than Ren's small tote-bag. "We'll only stop if there's something I can hunt or forage. Take those breaks for what they are, because it's all you'll be getting."

"I am a Huntsman, Jaune. Endurance won't be a problem."

The reminder of his calling did as little to endear him to Jaune as always. "Yeah, well, that's what the last group thought. They aren't here."

Again, Ren chose not to rise to the bait. In that regard it was fortunate Jaune was out here with him, and not someone more hot-headed like Yang or Nora. Even Pyrrha would have been affected. _He even manages to try my patience at times and that's no easy feat._

His thought took longer than he realized, because when he looked up again Jaune was already at the mouth of the cave.

"Oi, you day dreaming? Come on, city-boy. We have limited hours in day, and each one of them gets us a bit closer to getting out of the Grimmlands. Move!"

With a sigh and a nod, Ren stood and checked his meagre supplies to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. Jaune had apparently already done most of it, packing the dried wood they'd left by the fire. A pity he couldn't pack away the cold as well. The cool damp night, and the dreary situation, made every limb feel as heavy as a log. The rain outside continued to pour and as he stepped up beside Jaune at the entrance, he couldn't help but once more. The forest canopy would offer little cover, just a constant procession of drops. He'd made the mistake of thinking that the day before.

He wanted to ask if they were really going to travel through this, but he doubted the irate hunter beside him would respond well. The stocked backpack looped over his shoulders, not to mention the bow collapsed and stored away, spoke of a long and arduous journey.

"We've got until sun down," Jaune said, stepping out into the torrential shower. It pelted and ran off his hood, but he seemed to not feel it. Already Ren was envious, even as he pooled his semblance to prepare for travel. "Come on, city boy. Time to go."

"I have a name, you know. The least you could do is use it."

"Sure thing, city-boy."

Ren sighed.

/-/

Weiss sighed too, far away but no more comfortable.

Weiss palmed her face, drawing her hand down in a futile effort to brush aside the exhaustion she felt. Lack of sleep had left her skin sunken and sallow, and the bags under her eyes could have been designer. She scrunched her eyes shut but refused to let herself fall asleep. When she opened them a moment later they were ringed with red. Not tears, though. Ruby had had enough for both of them.

Her head shot up when the door nearby opened, a desperate sort of relief bloomed when she recognized who it was.

"Doctor," Weiss said, rising to her feet. "How is she?"

The man jumped a little. "Oh, Miss Schnee. You're still here? How long have you been waiting?"

All night, she didn't say. She just repeated her question, not really having the energy or patience for pleasantries.

"How is she?"

"You mean Kalie?"

Weiss' hand tightened on the chair behind her and the metal warped slightly. Who else could she possibly have meant? Who else had she delved into her finances to hire this doctor to see? Of course she meant Kalie. Was the man an idiot? Did she need to hire another doctor, just in case? Did Edge even have another doctor?

All those questions and more flitted through her mind, followed with a surge of tired anger. She bit down on it and nodded. "Yes. Is she alright?"

The bespectacled man paused, but eventually nodded. "She's stable," he said.

"Stable?" Weiss repeated, wary and reluctant to feel excited just yet. It would only leave her further to fall. "Will she get better? Were there any complications? I paid for you to see her, doctor. I would appreciate a full diagnosis!"

"I understand that, Miss Schnee. It's just that it would be easier to show you. Would you like to come through and see for yourself?"

Weiss nodded, because why else had she been waiting here all night? But if this man was going to take her inside, crush her spirits and then tell her the girl was never going to recover because of their foolishness?

Well, better she be the one to deal with it first rather than Ruby.

Weiss followed the doctor inside the room, and saw her. Kalie.

An unconscious girl had never seemed so frightening before, but she had no idea what she would see beyond those white sheets. An IV was beside the medical bed but it looked old-fashioned and flimsy, nothing at all like the ones Beacon had. But she was alive, and just seeing it herself took a weight off her chest. Bloody bandages to the side were evidence of the doctor's hard work, and a thick gauze covered half of Kalie's face, obscuring it from view, but there was an undeniable rise and fall of the sheets as the girl breathed.

"Miss Kalie will survive, and should even regain full mobility in time," the Doctor said, and Weiss let out a shuddering breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "The injuries were… I would not say light for they weren't, but few of them were life-threatening. It was more the culmination of all of them and the blood loss. I suppose the closest term would be that she had a catastrophic amount of minor injuries, like she had been fed through a woodchipper but somehow kept alive at the end of it."

Her eyes closed. She could have done without the metaphor, especially since she could still remember holding the girl down as Blake pulled out the feathers. Kalie had begged for them to just let her die at one point. Weiss had wondered if it might have been a mercy to grant it.

She refused to forget, or forgive herself, for that selfish thought. It hadn't been Kalie's pain that had made her think it. It had been her own guilt at seeing it.

"She will recover?"

"Physically, yes…"

"But mentally?"

"Please, Miss Schnee. All I can do is treat the inside and outside of the body. What this experience has done to her mentally, emotionally… that is not something a physician can tell you. At the very least, all I can tell you is that this sort of situation changes people. How they see themselves… and how they are seen by others. Whether that's good or ill, or is something that can be 'recovered' from, I cannot say."

Weiss closed her eyes, took a fortifying breath, and made herself nod. "I understand," she said. "Her physical recovery, then?"

"It will be easier to see for yourself." With care, the doctor withdrew the sheet. Weiss did her best not to flinch, and mostly succeeded.

Kalie was alive, she reminded herself. Her breasts rose and fell, wrapped in bandages that were stained lightly with blood. Bandages seemed to wrap every other extremity as well, some thicker than others. Every bloodstain on the white bandages stood out to Weiss, etched in her memory as a proof of her- their- failure. Then there were the casts- immobilizing both hands, and a knee…

The gauze still hid half of Kalie's face from view. Weiss wondered how she's react when she realized that her days walking and hunting in the wilds were over, at least for now.

Again, the primitive nature of the bed and medical equipment stood out to her. Again, she reminded herself it shouldn't have. Edge was nothing more than a community that cropped up around an SDC Dust Mine, a few hundred at most. Who would pay to bring top-tier medical equipment out here, when the worst that was expected was the occasional broken bone? When, in one bad year, everything could be lost to a Grimm invasion? It didn't make economic or political sense. Or at least that was her father's train of thought.

It had been her thought, too. But just because it didn't make 'economic' sense didn't mean that no one was affected by the lack. How many people out here on the frontier lived without ever seeing the clean hospitals or life-saving medicine that was safe but far away in Vale? If you added up the tens of hundreds of villages, each with tens or hundreds of citizens themselves…

"Miss Schnee…?" a voice intruded in her thoughts.

"Y-Yes? I apologise. You were saying?" Weiss asked, returning to the present.

"As you can see she is capable of breathing unassisted," the doctor explained. "I'm providing her nutrients and she will have some difficulty eating whole foods for a while. If possible, I'd like her to be placed on a specific diet for a while…" He hesitated. "I-If the SDC or someone else is willing to pay for it, that is."

"We are. I am," Weiss said instantly. She should have felt offended he dared suggest otherwise, but she knew better. He had every reason to doubt her, and probably had precious few supplies to waste on charity anyway. Unlike in the cities, where the Kingdoms might handsomely pay a doctor directly, there was only so much a private practitioner could charge in a community of impoverished miners. The poor could only pay so much. "I want you to include the cost of liquid food on my bill. If she requires any physical therapy afterwards, I also want that charged to me."

"Really?" That clearly surprised him. "A-Are you sure, Miss Schnee?"

"Did I stutter?" she demanded, glaring at a man likely two or three times her age.

"No! No. I'll see it done. Thank you," he said swallowed audibly. "When- when she is awake, I will send reports on her progress to you regularly. I am sure Kalie-"

Kalie's fingers moved, and a low groan emanated from her.

Weiss' breath hitched.

The doctor noticed, and rushed past her to hover by the awaking woman's shoulder. "Miss, can you hear me? Can you hear my voice?"

"Y-Yes…?" Kalie sounded worn, weak, confused, and also afraid. Her body began to twitch, spasming slightly as it tried to rise but found it couldn't. "W-Where am I? I can't move! I can't see! I-" her voice raised in fright, panic waking her up.

"It's just a bandage and the medicine, Miss Kalie," the doctor soothed, voice calming. "You're back in Edge. You are safe."

"H-Home?"

"Yes. Home. You were hurt, but the Huntresses brought you back. They saved your life. I had to give you a paralytic during the surgery, so don't be alarmed if your body doesn't respond as you'd like, but you will recover. Do you understand me?"

"Yes…" The panic in her voice faded, and as Kalie allowed herself to breathe, Weiss stood by wordless. When she dared to breath, though, Kalie's head quickly turned, the lower half of her mouth clearly taking a confused frown. "Is there… is there someone else there?" Kalie asked.

The doctor looked at Weiss, and Weiss looked back, each uncertain of how to respond. The doctor rallied first, turning to his patient.

"Yes, Kalie," he said. "It's one of the Huntresses who saved you, Miss-"

Weiss couldn't bear to hear him continue, and stepped forward herself.

"Hello, Kalie," she said softly, far gentler than she'd addressed the doctor earlier. "It's good to see you awake again."

"Weiss…?" the other girl hazily recognized. Weiss stiffened as the bandaged eyes turned towards her, but there was no anger in her voice. _Not yet, anyways,_ she thought.

"I'm here Kalie," she said. "We… We got you back to Edge."

"You saved me?"

Weiss tried to say something but couldn't. Her voice failed. No. No, they hadn't saved her. They'd been the ones to get her in trouble in the first place. Weiss' hesitation wasn't missed, but at least that answer was obvious.

"What about… what about your friend? Or Jaune?" Kalie asked, thinking of others. "What about everyone else? Did they get back safe? Is everyone alright?"

Weiss's throat clenched. "Kalie, I-" she began. "Worry about yourself."

"Huh?" Kalie answered, not quite hearing, and still not having seen the state of her own body.

Thankfully, the doctor stepped in.

"What Miss Schnee is trying to say is that you've taken quite severe damage, but you should be okay," the doctor said. "Right now your body will be weak and you need to recover. You have one leg in a caste, and your hands will have to be immobilized for some time to recover. Given time, however, you should hopefully eventually have full use of your hands again."

Kalie sagged with relief at the optimistic assessment. "Thank you…"

"There _is_ another issue, however…" he reluctantly broached. "You will regain full mobility in time, but the damage elsewhere… was more extensive."

"Doctor…?" Kalie asked warily, a sentiment Weiss echoed. What hadn't he told her, before Kalie woke up?

Weiss's eyes drifted to Kalie's face-obscuring bandage. One of Kalie's cast-covered hands did as well, the barely emerging finger tips brushing against the gauze. Right over where a healthy eye _should_ be.

Weiss remembered a flurry of wings and capricious caws and claws that _just wouldn't stop_ as the hunter girl hung helplessly, caught in the underbrush amidst the murder as the too-proud heroines of Remnant tried and failed to reach her in time…

"Am I-?"

"Your left eye is intact and escaped the worst of the damage. Your right eye… I'm sorry. Your mobility will return, but without depth perception you will likely never shoot a bow well again. Your career as a hunter is over." He closed his own eyes and bowed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do to save it."

Weiss looked at the basic equipment and primitive tools he had available, and would always wonder.

Kalie, though…

"Can I… Can I see…?"

"I really think you ought to wait until you're a little stronger." There was not a hint of doubt in his voice.

Kalie shook her head, and feebly tried to raise her other arm up, so that she could use fingertips from both hands. It wasn't enough, and she turned towards where Weiss had been watching.

"Weiss, could you…?"

Weiss tried not to let her discomfort show, even if Kalie couldn't see it. "You should listen to the doctor," she whispered, hoping that Kalie would.

But she knew the other girl wouldn't, any more than she would have had it been her in that position. Some things had to be seen, to be believed.

"Weiss, _please_ …"

Weiss didn't answer, but couldn't refuse. She silently approached. Not so silently that Kalie didn't hear her coming. Wordlessly Weiss raised her own hands towards Kalie's bandaged face, and her own fingers shook as she grasped the edges of the gauze. With a final, barely audible "I'm sorry," she pulled it free.

Kalie endured the removal without complaint. When Weiss saw what was behind the gauze, it was all she could do not to say anything either.

Any words she'd had of empathy, of thinking she knew what the other girl would be going through because of her own scar, were pitifully inadequate.

Kalie had not been a beautiful woman, not by the standards of Beacon, but she'd been attractive and pretty in a girl next door kind of way. Saying she'd been the prettiest girl in Edge wouldn't have been saying much, but she'd had nothing to be ashamed of. No doubt boys had once upon a time lined up hoping to have her look at them and smile.

No longer, and never again. Her face was bright red, and blood still oozed lazily from several lacerations, the reason for the gauze. Ugly red gashes, still too new and too red to be called scars, criss-crossed her face. Deeper pock-marks suggested where the Nevermores had pecked and taken away what they could, and nothing had been done- could have been done yet- to replace what had once been a beautiful and charming eye.

She said none of that, but the next thing Weiss heard was a bitter laugh.

"That bad, huh?" Kalie asked, having nothing to go on but the expression on Weiss's reaction. An eye- the good eye- tracked her clearly, and clearly was taking in the expression on her face.

"It's not- given time-" Weiss began to lie.

"Show me," Kalie asked, and for the first time her tone dropped any hint of kindness or request. It was a demand- or maybe a debt to be paid in full.

Thoughts of echoing the doctor's suggestion, of telling Kalie to wait until she was stronger, died. Weiss wordlessly reached into her skirt and withdrew her scroll. She brought up the camera, reversed it so that the person holding it could see their face, and then handed it to Kalie, who held the edges of it with her un-casted fingers.

Kalie's breath sounded harsh and heavy in the small room as she took in what she'd look like for the rest of her life.

The girl's last eye gently closed.

Weiss stepped forward. "Kalie, I'm- we're- we are _so_ -"

"Thank you, for being honest," Kalie interrupted with a whisper. It was soft, but too heavy with indescribable emotion to be stopped. Kalie let her hands fall softly too her lap, and the scroll from her fingers, leaving it for Weiss to take. "Thank you for showing me. Showing me what I am."

"Kalie-"

"I'd like to be alone now, please," Kalie asked, voice cracking on the final word.

Weiss couldn't refuse her.

/-/

Weiss wandered in a daze, barely even noticing the rain. Technically she supposed she was heading to the inn, but there was no urgency, or even direction as she wandered through the rain. Too many thoughts, and none at all, spiralled in her mind. Kalie was alive. The doctor had promised to stay behind and watch after her. What else was there to do?

Weiss didn't even realize she'd reached the SDC store until she nearly walked into the door.

Standing inside, the cool air of a summer air conditioner- no doubt the greatest advertisement a store like this could have- chilled her through her soaked clothes. A puddle of water was forming beneath her, and no doubt someone would have to clean it later.

That someone, though, was the only person in the store.

"Welcome! I'm sorry, but we're not… oh. Miss Schnee."

Her name was an insult. That was the only way to put it, and the only reason a warm greeting had turned harsh and grudging mid-sentence. Weiss looked up at the man, and saw a youngish face with brown hair. He looked bored, nervous, but also incredibly frustrated, already ignoring her as he looked at a clock every few seconds.

"I remember you," she said. "You work at the store." The very store she was standing in.

"Conway. I'm Mr Mann's son." Maybe he sounded angry because he was reminding her his name. She doubted it. While Mr. Mann, the SDC's senior officer in the area, would have no doubt been horrified to hear his son being so abrupt with his employer's daughter, Conway likely didn't care. This sounded personal.

"You're waiting to see Kalie, aren't you?" she asked, tired mind putting together scattered memories.

Conway immediately turned his full attention to her, a frantic energy apparent. "Have you seen her? Is she awake? Is she alright?" he immediately asked, almost leaning over the counter. "I tried to see her earlier, but Doc Mitchell wouldn't let me in, and now I have to man the counter and-"

His torrent of words rocked her back. Weiss tried to answer.

"I just saw her. She's awake now. And she's… not alright."

"What's wrong? What did you do to her this time?"

It wasn't shouted, but Weiss flinched at the accusation regardless. She couldn't refute it, so she said nothing. Conway tsked, before he slammed a fist on the counter. "

"Damn it!" he shouted, looking at the clock again in frantic energy. "Damn store- damn Grimm- damn Huntresses!" he cursed, looking at her and the clock and all around in impatient energy. "Can't do anything right! And now I'm stuck watching a desk because YOU-!"

"Go, Conway."

Both Weiss and Conway turned at the new voice, and new presence. It was Mr. Mann coming in from the back.

Despite his previous words, a flash of guilt crossed Conway's face as he looked not just at the clock and the door, but also the counter. A terribly mixed expression settled on his face. "Pa- are you sure?" he began. "The store-"

Mr. Mann put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Go," he said again. "I could say you're not doing any good here so distracted, but…" the father gave a look Weiss couldn't recognize, having never seen it from her own. "I'm sure I can hold the store and let you clock out early, just this once. Unless Miss Schnee here has any objection to it?"

Despite his words, it didn't sound like he was asking for permission. Weiss wondered if with just one word she could lose her father a valued and experienced manager… but shook her head at the thought, and his question.

They took that as consent. In a flash Conway grabbed a cloak from a hook, and made his way towards the door. As he was passing, though, Weiss reached out to him.

"Be careful," she warned, voice subdued. "She's… not okay right now. She might not want to see you."

"I don't need to hear that from you," Con Mann snapped, before pushing past her and running out the door. "Kalie!" he shouted, running into the monsoon.

Weiss watched him run into the monsoon. She wondered if she should have stopped him. Would Kalie want to see him? Would he want to see her, once he got a good look at his girlfriend's face? Guilt gnawed at Weiss either way. If she was afraid of what his reaction might be, what would Kalie feel when he arrived.

They'd already cost Kalie so much. The possibility it would cost her this as well was too much. Weiss looked down once more, tired eyes glazing as she looked at the floor.

"Ms. Schnee, did you want to talk about anything else?" Mr. Mann asked.

It was surprising how quickly she'd forgotten his presence. She looked up, and saw him looking at her. The look in his eyes… it was as different today from yesterdays as hers must be. She looked away, remembering… too much.

"I'm sorry, it's nothing," she murmured. "You must be busy." There wasn't another person in the store.

"I doubt any customers will be coming today," Mr. Mann said, moving towards the door and flipping the sign to 'closed.' "And I have things to say to you. Now come. We can talk in my office," he prompted, inviting her to follow him to his office. "I'm sure you came here for more than just to share the word about Kalie."

Had she? Weiss's mind was swimming in exhaustion and other thoughts. Given how… non-differential he was treating her now, compared to yesterday, she wondered what was going on in his head. Behind his constructed mask as an employee, was he angry too?

They reached the office and sat, though not before Mr. Mann pushed a warm cup of coffee before her. There was silence at first, which Weiss did nothing to fill. When it was clear she wouldn't, Mr. Mann spoke first.

"President Schnee rang in your absence," he informed, which made her look up.

"What was the nature of the call?"

"He asked about the result of your expedition, and also about some medical supplies that had been requisitioned from the company."

Weiss' hands tightened into fists. Those medical costs had been nothing compared to the day-to-day running costs of the SDC, and likely not even compared to the suit he'd no doubt been wearing. Replacing them would be costly, but not unreasonably so. Still, it didn't surprise her that he'd noticed such a small and innocuous cost, nor that he apparently hadn't cared for its implications.

"Those medical supplies were for Kalie," she explained. "The cost will be reimbursed from my own account when I return to Vale. I won't have him step back on this now, Mr Mann."

"You won't have to," Mr Mann replied. "President Schnee agreed to resupply those items from company stock the moment he realised what they were for."

Weiss paused. "What? You're sure?"

"Yes, of course." Mr. Mann took a sip of his own coffee, simultaneously providing a pause and hiding his expression from her. "He was reluctant to provide charity were Beacon in a position to cover the costs, but he changed his mind when I conveyed it was for one of our local hunters on the expedition."

"Because he knew she was a hunter?" Weiss asked. There was no way her father actually cared about Kalie, or the people of Edge. There was more to this. "Why would that matter? What interest does he have in the hunters of Edge?"

"In all honesty very little, but he believes otherwise. His true interest should be in _one_ hunter in particular, maybe two, but Mr Schnee is… not interested in the details. He did not ask, and I did not see fit to tell him otherwise." Something twisted in Weiss's gut, even as Mr. Mann put down his mug and looked at her straight over the coffee table.

"Was there something else you came here to talk about today, Miss Schnee?" he asked, looking her even as she tried to avoid meeting his eyes. "Something other than the status of my son's girlfriend?"

Weiss looked down. Maybe, even if she hadn't realized it, she had.

"Jaune Arc is missing," Weiss admitted. "Left behind in the Grimmlands." Probably dead, went unsaid.

Mr. Mann said nothing for a moment, letting the tick, tick, tick of a nearby clock fill the silence. Then he let out a slow sigh.

"I'd heard," Mr. Mann admitted. "I'd heard, but… I'd hoped they were wrong." Tick, tick, tick filled the silence, and Weiss said not a thing.

"Did you come here because you felt bad about that, Miss Schnee?" Mr. Mann asked suddenly.

Weiss looked up at that. "Of course!" she protested, as if that had ever been in doubt. "Not just him, but Kalie-"

"Kalie was your guide, but Kalie is alive," Mr. Mann said. "You didn't come here to talk about her, did you?"

Tick, tick, tick. Weiss looked down again, and wrung her hands silently. Anxiously.

"Is this your first time losing an employee, Miss Schnee?" Mr. Mann asked, not unkindly.

Weiss startled, and looked up. Mr. Mann… Mr. Mann was looking at her with the pity of experience.

"He wasn't an employee," Weiss said, voice tight. "He wasn't even my guide. He was just-"

"-a contractor," Mr. Mann finished. "I know."

"I _knew_ it was dangerous to take civilians on a mission to the Grimmlands," Weiss said, voice rising, defending against some unsaid charge. "I knew it! That's why I wanted professional Huntsmen! That's why I didn't want him. I didn't-" her voice fell, even as her head fell into her hands.

"I didn't want anyone to get hurt," she confessed. "I wanted everybody to be safe. I wanted professionals because I didn't want to risk anyone."

"Then you're in the wrong business in the wrong world, Miss Schnee," Mr. Mann said, not unkindly. "Risk is a fact of life, even for professionals like us. I take pride that our mine is one of the best in the kingdom, with the fewest safety accidents in the region, but accidents do happen. Timbers break, rocks collapse, and people get hurt, even when we do everything right. And believe me, even your father wants the mines to be safe - a collapsed mine is bad for everyone."

"And that's just in the mines- in other places, other things can go wrong. Bullheads can crash when they were supposed to fly. Feelings can be offended without meaning to, and potential friendships ruined. I shiver to think what can go wrong for Huntresses like you," he said. "No one is completely safe from risk, no matter how much we try, but without taking a risk we can't move forward. We can only take the risks we think best- and understand that, sometimes, bad things will happen regardless."

Weiss said nothing, and Mr. Mann sighed. Audaciously, he reached forward and put a hand on his employer's daughter.

"Miss Schnee," he said, trying to look her in the eye, "taking guides on your expedition wasn't a mistake. It was the right decision that didn't go well, that's all."

It wasn't quite absolution, but it helped, in a way. She looked up at Mr. Mann, a man she'd dismissed as a minor store-keeper just the other day.

"Mr. Mann, how many employees have you lost?" she asked.

Mr. Mann gave a small, sad smile. "Too many, and today one more," was all he said. "This one, though… bad tidings."

There was another moment of silence, of the tick tock tick of the clock, but this time Weiss was ready to speak.

"Tell me about him," she asked. "Jaune Arc. What did he do here?" she asked. "Why should my father care about him? And what do you mean, bad tidings?"

"Does it matter?" Mr. Mann asked. "He's gone. Let the dead rest in peace. Soon enough it won't be your problem anyway."

Weiss curled her hands. "One day I will be in charge in of SDC, and when I am this town and its welfare will be my problem," she said.

Mr. Mann looked at her evenly. "Chances are, Miss Schnee, Edge will be tapped out and long gone by the time you inherit the company."

Weiss's hands curled tighter.

"That doesn't matter. I want to know," she insisted, hands shaking just a little. But there… there was something else, wasn't there? The other reason she'd come here, to someone who'd know, and not just gone to bed and a ill-deserved sleep.

"I want… I need to know what to tell his sister, when I see her again," she admitted, even to herself. "It might make things easier for her if I can. Please tell me."

Mr. Mann looked at her before sighing and leaning back.

"Jaune Arc… I remember when I first met him a couple years ago, when he was still just a young lad," he began. "Back when he and that sister of his would sell game outside the mines at closing time. Those evenings, you could never find one without the other."

"That was before his mother let him free to hunt, of course," he added as an errant aside. "Back when she at least tried to keep him around town."

"But then came the Frontier Fever, and when Mr. Arc found Sample Seventeen and likely saved this town in the process…"

/-/

Ren gasped for breath as he hauled himself up and over a log, almost slipping off the bark that was covered in moss and rain. He landed hard on the other side, feet sinking into the ground as the sodden water pooled around his ankles and drenched his already wet feet. He shivered and tried to shake it free, but had to give up when he noticed Jaune several paces ahead, already pushing some leaves aside. He staggered after him, determined not to break his promise of dragging them down.

Jaune weathered the situation with a stoicism that had gone far beyond admirable and become ridiculous. He rarely spoke, and even when he did it was to reprimand or give some instruction. Be quiet, hurry up, get down… over and over, the only words he received were clipped and sharp. After the third time they'd had to press their bodies down into cold and wet mud and plant matter while a Nevermore flew overhead, Ren had given up on staying dry. It was a hopeless endeavour.

There was no way the hunter was fitter than he. There was no boast there, only fact at the harsh training they went through at Beacon. He was stronger, faster, and had more stamina than most people who weren't hunters. He could throw fully grown men around with just a bit of aura. If anything, it was just that his silent companion either didn't register the pain or was blatantly ignoring it.

He had no idea what to make of that.

 _A little more food wouldn't go amiss either,_ Ren thought as his stomach grumbled. They'd had some green berries along the way – tart and sharp-tasting, but which Jaune had promised weren't poisonous. True to form they'd been safe enough until now, but whatever they were, they hadn't been filling. Even that had been eaten on the move and it was late evening now. It'd been… it'd been over a decade since Ren had walked this long in a single day.

How many hours did that make it? He wasn't sure. Did it even matter? There was something morale crushing about their journey, namely the fact that deep inside he knew all the work they put in today wouldn't end in any satisfactory manner. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, nor a soft bed to rest on. Instead, the most he could look forward to was another wet night in a cave. Rescue, if they would ever find it, was days away yet.

"Keep moving," Jaune said, breaking the silence with a rare comment. "We'll try to find another cave at dark. There's some cliffs just an hour or two away; if we're lucky we'll find somewhere unoccupied to rest."

"And if we're not?" Ren dared to ask.

"Then we make a shelter in one of the trees."

He waited for the punch line, but realised a second later there wasn't one. He scanned one of the nearby trees, a huge and powerful thing with vines, moss and other flora wrapped about it. Great green leaves made a large canopy. While the boughs certainly seemed sturdy enough, the lowest ones were at least twelve or so metres straight up. Factor in the rain, humidity and all the insects – and then the fact that they probably wouldn't be able to make a fire in the open for risk of Grimm who might see it…

Ren shivered at the thought. "Let's hope we find a cave," he whispered.

Jaune heard, of course. He made a sound halfway between a scoff and a `tut`, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to really, since they both knew he was unimpressed with the sentiment and was probably thinking something derogatory about his capability. It was that or his status as `city boy`, whatever that was supposed to mean. Even frontiers people didn't live in trees.

In the end, he decided not to comment on it, instead forcing himself onwards in the hopes they'd find some shelter more substantial to use. Even if it had Grimm inside, he'd rather kill them and take it over than risk a berth out in this storm. The wind had started to pick up again and he clutched his jacket close to himself. If it wasn't for the hood and rain coat he'd taken from the dead pilot, he didn't think he would have made it this far at all. Pink eyes were about the only thing that were a sullen, soaked mess at this point.

When Jaune clambered up the next knoll, a simple incline of rocks and broken logs that nearly rolled on Ren twice over but caused the hunter no issue, he paused on the top and held a hand out. Ren thought it was to help him for a second, but realised after that it was for him to stay quiet. He paused halfway up the climb, panting slightly.

"Damn it…" Jaune hissed.

"W-What is it?" he gasped, still struggling to keep his breathing calm. The pause, even if it was only for a second, was welcome, and he slumped against one of the rocks. A millipede trotted by his face but he couldn't even find the energy to let that bother him.

"Mouk is shadowing us…"

Ren's heart turned to ice. He slammed his Semblance into place before he could panic and the familiar feeling of his emotions being washed away soothed him. There was nothing to worry about, at least not imminently. Jaune would have had a far more pronounced reaction than a simple `damn it` if that were the case. "Does he know where we are?" he asked.

"No, otherwise he'd be over here already." Jaune motioned for Ren to come up beside him, and although it took a minute or two he managed it.

The knoll had brought them onto a small rising through which a parting in the trees ahead spelled the dip of a ravine. While there was no way they'd be traversing that, it did create a break in the thick trees all around them, giving him an uninterrupted view of the Lunar Cry Mountains to the east. This time, he didn't mistake the large shape there for the mountains it stood in front of.

Mouk took his breath away again, but this time – with the vast distance between them – there was a chance to feel awe instead of terror. Some details were hard to make out, not just from the distance but from the rain as well. As it scythed down on the forests below and around them, humidity kicked up mist and steam like smoke floating several metres above the canopy. That continued onwards for a while until it reached the mountains where the forest lessened and stopped. From there, the large shape could be seen, looking faintly at the sky and letting the rain wash against it's face.

"It's incredible," he said.

"It is," Jaune agreed. It was a rare moment of agreement between them. "Easier to think so when he's not tearing up the ground all around you. The big bastard is keeping in line with us, though. That's going to be an issue since we need to cut past the mountains."

"How does it know where we're going? I was so sure we hadn't been seen."

"We haven't. Damn thing's either lucky or smarter than anyone's giving it credit for." Jaune's tone said he wasn't quite willing to rule out either possibility. "It could just be patrolling the mountains. It might just be a coincidence, especially if this is its newer terrain."

"Do you believe that?"

"I don't know," Jaune admitted with a sigh. "I think it's best to assume not. Like Uncle says, better to be pleasantly surprised than unpleasantly dead."

Ren chuckled at that, agreeing with the saying. While he was no pessimist himself, there was a certain logic to preparing for the worst-case scenario. Hopefully it wouldn't come to it. _I wonder what the others would think of that. I can't help but think Team RWBY would relish the challenge of facing him._ No doubt they'd see it as a reprisal of their initiation, as heart-pounding as that had been at the time.

He was glad they weren't here in that case, and even more so his own team. In a straight up fight, he was sure Mouk would kill them. Strength and skill just wouldn't matter against something that gargantuan. All it had to do was fall in the right direction to crush them. The best even Ruby's scythe could probably do was shave its hair a little.

"What _is_ our worst-case scenario?" Ren asked. "If we have to deal with him, I mean."

"We'll hope it doesn't come to it, but if it does?" Jaune sighed and pushed off the rock, taking them deeper into the forest and away from the intimidating sight. "Some sort of diversion to bypass him. The old trick used to be lighting a fire to draw him away and then going through when he was distracted. That doesn't work anymore."

"He learnt what it meant?"

"Maybe, but I think it's more he goes away from them myself. Like he knows it's NOT food, but food is somewhere else. The best bet is not to make any fuss at all and to try not to alert him to the presence of anyone nearby. A fire will just get him excited. We'll just-" Jaune froze. His arm snapped out, preventing Ren from stepping past.

"What is it?" Ren hissed.

"Shh!"

Jaune reached behind him with one hand, slowly bringing forth the bow he'd collapsed earlier. The string should have been soaked, but it looked oiled, or some sort of other water-proofing. A good choice, and Ren briefly wondered where Jaune might have picked up some Huntsman tech like that, or if it was some frontier secret. Despite that, Jaune drew forth a long shaft from the quiver at his hip and nocked it. The wire drew back, glinting faintly in the late evening sunlight.

He took a cautious step forward, arrow aimed in the direction of something he'd detected. Ren tried to figure out what it was but sensed nothing. A normal Grimm would have attacked them by now, but there was no telling if Mouk's presence wasn't somehow affecting that. Stormflower slipped down into his hands. He only had a bit of ammo left, but he could still use the blades to devastating effect.

Jaune suddenly surged forward, half-stepping, half-lunging, and loosing his arrow at the same time. It whizzed into a bush some distance away, and something squealed. Jaune broke ranks, charging after it with not a care in the world. Ren cursed and followed after him, arriving right in time for Jaune to reach in and draw the arrow out. On the other end, a cute rabbit hung, speared through the skull and quite obviously dead.

If Ruby or Nora were with them, they'd have surely cried.

"Got it," Jaune said proudly, drawing out the arrow with no thought for the blood and brain matter that spilled out with it. He shook the corpse, spilling blood and rainwater on the floor. The poor thing was soaked. That was probably the least of its worries now…

"Was that entirely necessary?" Ren asked, sheathing his weapons. "I thought we were under attack."

Jaune rolled his eyes but didn't reply to that. He hooked the rabbit onto his belt instead and patted it down. "Necessary? That's your call, I guess. I just figured you might like some food that isn't military rations, but hey, if you don't want it then more for me."

"I didn't say that."

"Didn't say what?" Jaune pressed.

"That I didn't want any…"

"I'm not sure I get what you're asking."

"Do you have to be so difficult?" he snapped, before pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thank you for shooting the rabbit. Please may I have some of the meat?"

"Well, I suppose I can share." Jaune laughed, apparently pleased with having won the concession out of him. "We'll cook it tonight. You know how to gut an animal?"

Ren's stomach lurched. "In theory, yes."

There was a moment of silence, during which Jaune's face went through several complicated expressions. Eventually, he sighed.

"I'd… rather not leave it to theory, no offence. I'll handle it."

That was probably for the best, so he didn't take any offence at it. It seemed like such a long time ago that he and Nora had been left to fend for themselves in the wild after fleeing the destruction of their home. He could only vaguely recall what they'd eaten at the time, but it had mostly been tubers, roots and berries. Children their age hadn't been equipped to catch wild animals, and probably wouldn't have known what to do with them if they had.

It took a while for them to find a cave. It might have been somewhere between forty minutes to an hour, but without battery for his scroll Ren was unable to really tell. The dense canopy and denser clouds made reading by the sun difficult, if he'd even been proficient at it in the first place. How Jaune spotted the cave he had no idea, for it had a door of hanging vines, moss and plant-matter and camouflaged perfectly with the green-covered ravine walls on either side of it.

"I'll go inside and check it out," Jaune said. "Wait out here."

A day ago, he would have cautioned against that, highlighting that as a civilian, Jaune should be the one to wait outside. Now, miserable and cold, not to mention his legs shaking, Ren nodded and remained silent as the hunter entered. Ren barely had the time to wonder whether he was safe or not when he stuck his head back out.

"Yeah, it's safe."

"That didn't take long."

"Not a big cave," Jaune said, pulling the vines aside so that Ren could stumble in. "Lucky for us, I guess. Means the heat won't be spread over such a big area."

Yes, that would be good. Ren collapsed to his knees and slung his pack before him, gasping as he peeled off the sodden top and drew out some logs – this time wrapped carefully in other items to keep them dry. He'd learned from the last time. He worked in silence to stack them into a fire pile, pulling some rocks about to prop up the logs.

Jaune sprinkled some moss he collected from the walls on as well, saying to use it as tinder, but also smoke to ward off biting insects. "The monsoons have made the air humid," he explained. "If the rain lets up they'll be out in force tonight, and a little protection is better than nothing."

"As long as it burns, I couldn't care less."

The hunter laughed and brought out some flint, striking his metal knife against it and generating easy sparks. It took a few for the tinder to catch, but catch it did and the flames licked hungrily at the logs. Ren gasped in pure relief as the warmth washed over him, and was surprised to find that Jaune did much the same, slumping down to warm his hands. Maybe he wasn't as invincible as he made off, and the way he worked off his boots and massaged his feet certainly suggested so.

Ren glanced towards the entrance and hummed. "The elevation is against us this time. If we set our clothes by the entrance to dry, the water will run down on us."

Jaune paused to watch him, apparently surprised to see he'd absorbed the lesson so quickly. "True," he admitted. "There's s dip at the back of the cave, though. We'll lay them on the rocks, let the water drip there, and then sleep away from it. The fire will dry them out."

He nodded and began to peel off his clothing, looking away for modesty's sake. Jaune did the same on the opposite end of the fire. Once again Jaune was clothed again before Ren, and by the time Ren had pulled on the pilot's clothes - quickly becoming his sleepwear - and turned around, Jaune was starting to gut the rabbit.

Ren was too tired to feel bothered by the fact, and Jaune wasn't paying attention anyway, busy gutting the rabbit he'd caught earlier off to the side. He flicked some bits of it outside that Ren pointedly didn't look at, and cut off some slivers of meat, placing them on a small metal plate removed from his bags. That was then balanced on some rocks by the fire, where it would slowly heat up. Almost like a pan of sorts. As the bloody meat dripped and began to sizzle, Ren's mouth watered. He was looking forward to it more than he thought he would.

"Is every day going to be like this?"

"Stiff muscles, complete exhaustion and sodden feet?" Jaune asked. "No. The rain won't last forever, so we'll have dry feet."

That he didn't address the other two hardly filled Ren with confidence, not that he'd expected anything better. Even though his body felt like he'd gone through ten consecutive rounds with Nora, there was no denying the fact he was, in essence, alive. Not comfortable, but still breathing. In that regard, as long as they made it from point A to point B, point B being the safety of civilisation, Jaune's gruelling pace was justified. The more distance they covered, the sooner they'd be out of this mess.

"Is this how you normally travel when you're hunting?"

"You kidding me?" Jaune asked, laughing just a bit. "No one would want to be a hunter if that was the case, not even me. When I'm normally out, I take things slow, and I don't rough it in the rain if I don't have to. Sure, I might be out in the Grimmlands for a few days longer, but not even I'd want to travel like this every day." He flicked his knife as a gesture, carelessly getting a little blood on Ren. "Like, that hill with the fallen trees earlier? I was worried we were about to get rolled over the whole time."

"Really? You act like it doesn't bother you."

"Act," he pointed out, and began to massage his legs, wincing whenever he hit a sore spot. "Uncle used to tell me to'fake it till you make it real.' No point complaining, and we need to cover as much ground as possible. Doesn't mean I like it, or that I don't feel the burn. What about you? I thought you Huntsmen were meant to be super-human or something."

Ren chuckled. He certainly didn't feel super-human right now, but he could understand why people not used to them would think that way. "We are trained to be resilient, powerful and skilled, but our way of fighting is more high-intensity over a short period of time. We look to kill Grimm as soon as possible."

"Not ones for endurance?"

"Some of us are, but it's a tricky prospect. Aura is our energy and our protection. The longer we're in a fight, the longer we can be hit and lose more aura. Huntsmen are dropped into the worst fighting, but fights with Grimm are fast and bloody. Grimm don't exactly take it slow when attacking. Even if we had a series of fights, there would be periods of rest to catch our breath in between. Nothing like the continuous slog we just went through."

"Rain made it harder," Jaune said, maybe as nothing more than a statement but maybe – if Ren tried really hard to imagine it – as a small excuse offered to make him feel better about himself. "Once the monsoons are over, it'll be drier. Easier."

"I'll look forward to it."

"You won't be the only one," Jaune grumbled.

The rabbit meat began to crackle and burn, so Jaune fished the metal plate out with his knife and the rabbit skin from earlier, using the skin as a make-shift oven mitt despite the still-oozing bits on the inside. In terms of cutlery to eat from there was only their bare hands and Jaune's knife. Ren ended up taking two reasonably strong-looking twigs, wiping them on the side of his clothes, and using them as makeshift chopsticks… if only if only to keep his hands from burning. Still, the meat smelled real, and most importantly warm, and he bit into it with relish.

Jaune did the same, but with much less enthusiasm before chewing mechanically.

Ren was barely able to swallow his. He only did because Jaune was watching him, waiting for a response.

"It's… well…"

"If you don't want it, don't eat it. It's not like I cooked it for you or anything."

"No, no. It's fine." It really wasn't, but Ren fought past his taste buds to swallow the offending article. He'd been expecting something worthy of a cookout, like hotdogs over a roasted fire. This was just…

Jaune sighed and put his down, before looking off to the side. "Fine. I can't cook. Happy?"

"It's better than ration bars, at least," Ren offered.

Jaune just glowered, probably recognizing just how low a bar that was. Still, for all it's… taste… it was definitely cooked enough to be… safe… that much was certain. And it was warm, which was even better. The only issue was the taste, which was distinctive in its rancidity. The phrase `tastes like chicken` could not have been any less apt.

"I can't cook," Jaune said, again. He sighed and tore off a small piece between his teeth, grimacing as he swallowed it. "Yes, I am aware how bad it is. I can hunt, kill, skin, and gut with the best of them, but I can't make the meat taste like anything other than death itself." He glared over as Ren smothered a chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," he lied. When Jaune's frown tugged down even further, he surrendered with a smile. "Well, I suppose it's just me being surprised, that's all. You always seem so certain and sure with everything else. It's nice to know you're not good at something." Besides tact, of course.

Jaune certainly didn't seem to think so, and muttered something disparaging under his breath. The two of them still polished off the meat, even if it wasn't very good – but when Ren began to reach for another of the ration bars, just to round it off Jaune stopped him.

"Don't eat that," his guide warned in his more usual disapproving tone. "Save that for when you need it. It's better we eat what we can while we can, in case food becomes an issue later on. We can get more meat over the next few days - but nothing more where that came from," he said, indicating the ration bar.

Ren's stomach protested, wanting more, but willpower won out for now. Regretfully he put it away. When they were finished, the two sat before the small fire, both cast in shadow and light from the flickering flames. This time, at least, they both had blankets- something Jaune was no doubt happy for, even as he'd pulled out a journal. He was making scratches in it, even as he held his pencil in an awkward fashion, and Ren considered pulling out his own.

With little to do but wait for sleep to claim them, Ren spoke. "Where did you learn all of this?"

"This?"

"Living in the wild, hunting, staying hidden from the Grimm…"

"I learned it in the wild," he said, "but I doubt that's what you mean." His tone was as brusque as ever, but if he truly hadn't wanted to speak he would have remained silent. "Uncle Jacque taught me."

"Jacques…? Like Jacque Schnee?"

Irritation flickered across Jaune's face. Ren didn't feel too guilty, and even relished it for a moment as Jaune began to talk.

"There's more than one Jacque in the world, you know," he complained. "Uncle Jacque is a hunter like me, though I guess I try to be more like him. He's probably the best in Vale, and even beyond. He ended up taking me under his wing and passed on what he knew to me. Even took me out into the Wildlands back when Mom and Dad were against it."

He paused to chuckle and prod the fire with a stick, pushing some burned branches aside.

"He taught me just about everything I know about hunting. He's still the best hunter in Edge, no matter how hard I try to catch up. He might have been the other one to go with the Huntsmen if… well…."

"What?" Ren asked, curious.

"If he was here," Jaune evaded. "He went off with mom a month or two back and asked me to look after things while he was gone. I was second best with him gone, so the job fell to me."

"Do you think he would have done a better job?"

"Hard to say," Jaune said, but laughed. "Maybe Cardin and his lot would have listened to someone older, but he probably would have ditched them even faster than I did. No telling where that would leave those idiots." He laughed again, though leaving people alone in the Grimmlands wasn't exactly a laughing matter at this point.

Ren chuckled all the same as something came to him. "But would the rabbit taste better?"

"Worse."

"You're joking…"

Jaune laughed. "I'm really not. I at least picked up a few cooking lessons from Dad, but Uncle Jacque didn't. I suppose you'd say my cooking is basic, but his can be poisonous. At least I know how to tell if the meat is good or not."

"He undercooks it?"

"Not after that one time. Now he errs on the side of caution, so you'd be eating charcoal. But hey, at least it wouldn't be undercooked."

"He sounds like a character…"

"He is." Jaune settled back against his rucksack and linked both hands behind his head. "Whole family is, really. Uncle'd bring back the game and Mom would butcher it like it stomped her daisies, but then she would also take the skins and tan the hides and make 'em into clothing. Basic stuff like bags, cloaks and blankets, but stuff that Edge could use, and people would pay more for than just the skins. I picked up more from those two than anyone else."

"And she would cook for you?"

Jaune laughed again. "Not if she could help it. She can make a decent stew or soup, but only because you can't mess up burning ingredients in a pot of water. Dad was the cook of the family. He always wanted to teach, but I was always out with Uncle Jacque, so I never really got the chance."

"And you never thought to learn?"

He shrugged. "Never exactly brought a pot out with me to the wildlands. Otherwise, meat's too valuable to just experiment on like that. What game I brought back wasn't just for us, but other people I sell or trade with. If I ruin food trying to learn to cook, it means we're a few lien poorer and someone else a belly full hungrier. Besides, I could always just let-" He paused, frowned. "Someone else could do it better anyway. That way I could focus on hunting or trading off game for spices and other things."

Ren noticed the pause but let it be. "A shame there isn't any seasonings out here."

Jaune hemmed. "It's not that there aren't any, but I'd just end up making the meat taste like grass. Like I said, I can't cook worth anything. Adding herbs will just be an extra ingredient for me to mess up."

"But do you know which ones are safe?" Ren asked. Jaune nodded, almost affronted. "I can cook in the future, then."

"You can cook?"

"Is that so unbelievable?"

Apparently it was, for Jaune watched him warily. He wouldn't claim to be the best cook in the world, but necessity was the mother of invention and he and Nora had been together for a long time. A lot of that hadn't had modern grills or temperature-controlled ovens either. While Nora was enthusiastic and eager to help, cooking required patience and that was an aspect she lacked. He'd had to pick up the slack, and learned more over the years.

"I'm not the best in the world, but I know a few recipes and I also know how to make good stews and spice meat. If you can tell me what herbs are what, and gather the safe ones, I'm sure I can make something that tastes better than that in future." The absent `it can't be much worse` didn't need to be said.

"You didn't know how to gut a rabbit," Jaune pointed out.

Ren chuckled. "We get our meat pre-gutted in Vale."

"I know that. I'm not an idiot." Jaune flushed and looked away. "Fine. I'll see if we can't find something tomorrow. Good food is worth its weight out here. We'll see how good yours is."

"I'll look forward to proving it to you."

It wasn't only because it would be a chance to show he wasn't useless, but also because it would give him some way to contribute. So far he'd relied on the other man for everything, and that was galling. While he was no Yang, he was still confident in his skills and respected himself. It wasn't a good feeling to know you had nothing to offer. Cooking the meat Jaune caught would be a small thing, but it would be something. Perhaps it would be the first of many things he could do.

It was, if nothing else, a start to him being more a help and less a hindrance.

"That's for another day, though," Jaune said, and Ren understood that it wasn't just the cooking, but also their conversation. While he'd been forthright, there was still a limit to how far he was willing to reveal about himself. "We should get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be-"

"Just as hard, if not harder, than today," Ren finished.

Jaune blinked, but slowly allowed a smile – cruel as it was – to blossom on his face.

"Maybe you're learning after all," he said. "Not bad for a city-boy, city-boy."

"It's-" He gave up with a sigh. "Never mind." Ren rolled his eyes and lay down, drawing his dry blanket up over his body. The rock beneath him still wasn't comfortable, but he felt warmer than he had the night before. There was less hunger, too, and despite the taste of it, the warm rabbit sat warm in his stomach and heated him up from the inside.

Were it not for the Grimm, the rain, the general despair of their situation and more, he might almost have imagined he was out camping. Well, out camping with the most ornery and demanding person he'd ever known.

"Good night, Jaune."

Jaune grumbled something back that might have contained something similar, but certainly didn't include his name.

/-/

"That's all, headmaster," Ruby finished, holding the long-distance communications device against her ear.

 _"I understand, Miss Rose. You did the best you could in the circumstances."_

She remained silent.

 _"Rest and recover for now. I shall see to making arrangements on Mr Lie's behalf."_

Making arrangements. Ruby's throat caught.

"T-Thank you, sir," she croaked.

Ozpin noticed, but evidently decided not to comment on it, and for that she was grateful. As she put the device down, the man at the communications building pointedly did the same, not meeting her gaze as she shuffled out like a zombie.

"The best we could, huh?"

She didn't think they had.

"You didn't need to do that, Rubes." Yang said, arms crossed as she leaned on the outside of the building. Her face was full of sympathy, but Ruby did her best not to notice it. She didn't need sympathy, and didn't deserve it.

"I'm the team leader. I'm the one who's supposed to…"

"Coco already did, though. Ozpin knows what happened."

Ruby's head lowered. "He was my friend…"

"Our friend. You shouldn't be beating yourself up over this alone."

Ruby's gripped her skirt with both hands and took several quick breaths. Didn't she have every right to beat herself up? They'd come here to rescue Ren and save the day and they hadn't even _seen_ him. They'd failed much earlier, getting injured along the way, nearly killing Kalie and losing an innocent to the Grimmlands.

Some team leader she was…

"Don't," Yang said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't go putting this all on your shoulders." Yang gripped her by them and turned her around. Her big sister's eyes were stern. "We all messed this up, Ruby. You didn't once tell us to keep pushing on and you didn't order us to do anything. We all wanted to push ahead and ignore Kalie's advice, and we're all responsible for what happened. Don't bottle this up."

"Maybe I should have…" Ruby's eyes clenched shut. "Maybe I should have ordered you all. Maybe I should have ordered us to listen to her, to sit still and not be idiots. Maybe if I'd been a proper leader I'd have known to listen to the person who knew more about the area than I did. Then we'd have made it through and found Ren."

"We have no idea if he's still alive out there," Yang said softly, "or if he was when we went…"

"Well at least Kalie would be okay!"

"She's… alive…"

Ruby didn't even look at her sister for that, and Yang surrendered with a sad sigh. Kalie was alive, sure, and they'd all been relieved to find that out when Weiss arrived. Their attempts to see her had been rebuffed, however. She didn't want to see them, apparently. Apparently she hadn't wanted to see anyone. Considering all that had happened, Ruby didn't blame her.

Kalie was alive, but _alive_ didn't mean _well_.

"It's easy to look back on mistakes and think you could have done better," Yang said. "Trust me, I do it as well. Hindsight is twenty-twenty like that."

Ruby knew that, she really did. It didn't make her feel any better, however. Her eyes stung but she wasn't crying, mostly because she was too drained to cry any more. She'd barely eaten in what felt like a day and her stomach growled. Despite that, the thought of food left her sick to her stomach. No matter how hard she tried not to think on it, it always came back to one question.

"When did we stop caring about normal people, Yang?"

Yang blinked down at her. "Eh?"

"We knew Kalie was more familiar with the Grimmlands than us," Ruby said. "That was why she was there with us. It was why we needed guides in the first place. We were told that by the people running the operation. So, why did we ignore them? When did we start thinking people that weren't Huntsmen or Huntresses didn't matter?"

"They do matter. They're who we protect. It's just… well…"

"They don't matter as much as we do… or their opinions don't, anyway. We ignored her because she wasn't a Huntress, because _we_ were the 'experts' on Grim. Because we were from Beacon, and she just lived here. The moment she came up and said hello, we treated her like someone we had to look after. She's older than me, but I treated her like a child to protected, but not listened to."

Yang had no response to her words, and Ruby's voice wavered between righteous inward anger and a confused depression as Yang held her.

"Why did we even take her if we were just going to ignore her? Even the military guy who told us about the mission said we'd need them, but the second he was out of sight we ignored him. Was that because he wasn't a huntsman? Would I have cared more if he had a cool weapon?"

By the sound of it, she honestly wasn't sure. Yang said nothing, and just let Ruby release.

"It's just… it wasn't supposed to be this way. Now Ren's gone, and Nora can't even leave her room, and- and-…" Now, finally, Ruby cried, and Yang felt near tears on her front.

"I can't even say 'I'm sorry'!" wailed Ruby. "Pyrrha won't let me! She told to stay away! She hates me, and I- I-"

A bawling cry broke off anything else, and Yang could only hold her tighter.

"It'll be alright, Ruby," Yang comforted, not knowing for sure if it was true or not. "No one hates you, everyone's just upset right now. that's all. Pyrrha's just trying to give Jewels space right now. Give it some time and then you'll see. She doesn't hate you." Yang hoped.

Ruby cried, and cried some more. It wasn't something to look down at her for, and Yang just stroked her hair as she let it all out. It was times like that that reminded her that- as strong and smart as her sister could be at times- in other ways, she was still a little girl. And this little girl not only faced a personal failure, but feared losing a friend.

There was nothing they could do but let time prove Yang right, or wrong. Nothing that Yang could think of, anyway.

Eventually, Ruby calmed down. And eventually, she fell asleep too, head on Yang's lap. Yang didn't move her. After so long worrying and trying to be responsible, letting Ruby sleep again after letting more out seemed like the best thing she could do.

"It'll be alright, Ruby," Yang whispered, looking down at her sister tenderly. "It's not your fault. I promise."

"Not your fault either," a masculine voice came from the door. "You're looking a little dim yourself, Firecracker."

Yang looked up, recognizing that voice. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Uncle Qrow!" she exclaimed, though careful not to wake Ruby. "But how? I thought the Bullheads were downed for the monsoon!"

"Heh. Bullheads might be, but I have my ways," Qrow claimed with a flippant wave, before sinking into the doorframe for support. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized.

Late was one way to put it. Impossible was another, but there he was. Exhausted, bedraggled, and dripping with water, but leaning against the door with a smile that survived despite all that.

"Never mind that," Yang hissed, still trying not to wake Ruby. "What are you even doing here?"

"Heard my girls ran into some trouble, and being the amazing Uncle I am I came running. Why else would I be here?" he asked, before letting the cocky smile fade just a bit.

"It's alright, Yang," her Uncle-slash-Huntsman reassured. "I'm here. It might not be easy, but it really is going to be okay now."

Despite not seeing how- despite not seeing a way to change the past and everything that had gone wrong…

Yang believed him.

/-/

 _It's strange how much can change in forty-eight hours._

 _Two days. A period of time which feels so short and yet also spanned such a great amount of time and distance. I'd come to learn truths about myself, some less comfortable than others, but it was also a time where I came to learn more about my reluctant companion._

 _I said he was not an easy man to get along with, and that was true. When we talked, it was against a suspicion I could not fathom the depths of. I thought at the time, and still think now, that he was lucky that it was I he found in the cave. Others would likely have taken greater offense, and who know where that might have led in the Grimmlands._

 _But as we spent those nights huddle around small cave fires, I learned other things about my companion as well. Discoveries that were not so malign as surprising._

 _He shifted between stoicism so severe I was left wanting, and an openness of emotion and feeling I had not expected. He took pride in his knowledge of wild, but seemed well aware of his weaknesses and failings. That he delighted in proving his superiority was clear, but I soon wondered if his mockery of my limitations was as malicious as it first appeared_

 _But what I learned most of all is that while he was, and still is, a hard and demanding man, he asks no more of others than he expects of himself. In that, at least, he is unfalteringly fair._

 _He was even then a man of some contradictions. He is experienced and mature, yet quick to taunt and resort to nicknames. He is comfortable and practiced in all aspects of wilderness survival, yet cannot cook the most basic campfire fare. He could be amicable and conversive when asked, or go hours without speaking beyond the most basic commands. He is a man who can laugh, and smile, and then suddenly glare at someone in the space of the same conversation. Trying to understand what affected him frequently felt like a long, painful path of verbal abrasion._

 _He was confusing. He was contradictory. He was complicated. He was nothing like his sister, and I did not understand him. Perhaps that was why I began to look closer, eventually. If there is one thing I could never stand, it was to not understand._

 _But understanding requires introspection, and introspection requires contemplation, and at that time I had precious little time or energy for either. Our path would be more grueling than either of us knew. Things would get worse before they got better._

 _It is said all trials have a reward. To share a campfire deep in the Grimmlands, to be trusted to cook… even though I had not realized it then, I was starting to obtain mine. I was in rarified company… even if many rare things are often unpleasant and abrasive._

 _As you shall eventually see, the tarnish we had started with would not go away as easily as the rain._

 _\- The Diary of Lie Ren_

* * *

 **CF's Notes:**

 **Another chapter. More stuff. More feels, one hopes. And Qrow arrives.**

 **A mostly RWBY-centric chapter, focusing getting the rest of the team feel outs. With the RWBY-cycle done, and the arrival of Uncle Qrow, we are not… 'done' with the Edge arc, but at least moving into another phase. And more focus for Ren and Jaune, in theory, as they near approaching the great challenge of the arc- escaping Mouk's domain.**

 **In other news, KegiSpringfield has created the first fanart for this fic! Please search Kegi out on DeviantArt and applaud.**

 **Alas, no tvTropes page yet, but any day now, Coeur fans, any day now…**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 6th January (3 Weeks due to my week off)**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	9. Chapter 9

**Welcome back**

* * *

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

"Wake up."

The demand, quiet as it was, pierced through the clouds in Ren's head and woke him within moments. The first thing he noticed was that it was still dark, sun not yet risen. Then he realised Jaune was kneeling beside him. That was a bad enough way to wake up, even without the night-time chill. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong.

Jaune's hand covered it, pushing him back down. "Quiet," Jaune hissed. His eyes were barely visible in the dark, but there was no mercy despite the early hour. "We're not alone."

Ren awoke instantly. The adrenaline pushed away what fatigue there was as he nodded, alert. When Jaune let go of his jaw, he rolled aside and up into a crouched position. His eyes scanned the entranceway, but he couldn't see any Grimm. He cursed himself for a fool a second later. If Grimm were in the cave, Jaune wouldn't be waking him up; he'd be fighting. They all would be.

"What is it?" he dared whisper.

Jaune's eyes narrowed. "Grimm."

He felt like pointing out that was obvious and asking for more detail, but the wariness on his companion's face stopped him. Now wasn't the time for sarcasm, and if Jaune was this nervous, then it was serious. He probably didn't know what the Grimm were doing, just that they were close. Too close. It would have been foolish to go out there to find out more.

Ren looked back into the cave and noticed that many of their things were packed and ready to go. Jaune had stashed their cooking equipment the night before. Besides their blankets, only some wet clothing had been left out to dry.

They could move quickly if nothing else. Maybe that had been the point.

Ren kept his voice low but crept over to Jaune. "Do we stay here?" he asked. "Even if they don't pass, I could hold them at the cave mouth. It's defensible." Good terrain, even to his admittedly amateur eye.

Jaune shook his head regardless. "Not in the Grimmlands. Not with Mouk nearby." Ren knew the danger was close by the way Jaune spared him his normal acerbic attitude. "You might be able to hold the entrance, but Mouk would head over the second the Grimm see us."

"Keeping us trapped inside," Ren realised. "Then it'd be a battle of attrition."

Jaune's grim nod confirmed it. Either they stayed inside against whatever host Mouk brought, or they stepped outside to face him head on. Ren didn't want to think about how that might work. He'd never faced something like Mouk before, but the old strategies wouldn't work. They couldn't afford to fight any battles on the defensive in case he decided to come over. They could flee, fight, or sneak by, but either way they'd need to keep moving.

"This is why I hate caves. We can't afford to take the chance they'll pin us down," Jaune said, starting to shove the still-damp clothes into his sack. "It'd take a better hunter than me to get you past Mouk if they do. You ready to move?"

"Let me grab my clothes," Ren said, reaching over and shoving them and his blanket into his bag without a care. Nice neat folds could come later. Ren shouldered his pack and yawned, feeling every lost hour of sleep worm its way into his exhausted muscles. He slammed his Semblance down on those thoughts, and the emotions attached to them.

The sky outside was still dark when they left the cave, proving his instincts right. It looked to be a good two hours before dawn, but there was a lingering light from shattered moon as it hung above the tall peaks of the Lunar Cry mountains to the north-east. With the shattered fragments glowing white in the night sky, he could finally understand why the mountains had earned that name. It looked like the moon was weeping, a tear hovering above the hungry teeth of the mountain peaks.

He hoped that wasn't an omen.

Jaune tapped his arm before he could get too distracted and motioned with his head to the side. Ren nodded and followed, picking his way carefully over treacherous rocks. The going was slow and dangerous, more so because neither of them were a faunus. At the very least, though, no flames or electronic lights ruined his night vision, and after a awhile he was able to barely make out a path, little more than a game trail. How Jaune had noticed it in the dark was beyond him.

Crickets chirped, and branches rustled in the low breeze, but there was neither sight nor sound of Grimm. He wondered if his companion might have mistaken it, but didn't speak such thoughts. Even if it wasn't true, there would be no sleeping now. He was too alert.

Eventually they reached a hill steeper than the rest- and to Ren's surprise, Jaune began to climb it. The hill was like a wall to the valley, separating it from the no doubt many more on the other side, but there was more than that. Whereas the hills and ridges so far had been well-forested, this hill was steeper, and with much less plant growth growing off it. Ren struggled for hand holds, and instead watched his steps as they began to walk up a light-ish coloured… shale? Was it shale? It was the only light-coloured soil that came to mind as the loose topsoil and looser grass swayed in a breeze.

Up here, on the 'wall' that separated two of the countless valleys, Ren could tell they had climbed one of the ridgelines that separated the valley floors. Looking back where they had travelled from, he could almost see the far side of the valley. Somewhere there had been the cave they'd fled. Now they were almost a valley away from where the Grimm were no doubt still looking from them. The distance would bring safety, but that was cold comfort.

Ren tugged the pilot's coat closer around his body instead, trying to huddle into it to preserve what little warmth that wasn't whisked away in the cool night air. Though they were lucky the rains had lessened for the moment, though their effects could still be felt in the slick stones and slippery steps. More than once Ren thought he might tumble, and one time he did. His right ankle flared, but he refused to acknowledge that when Jaune looked back. No way would he be slowing them now, when speed was of the essence. They cut across the steep ridgeline, concealed as best they could against the face of it while avoiding any areas that might silhouette them against the sky.

A long howl echoed behind them, making the two pause not an hour into their trudging journey. Ren crouched low, Jaune doing the same, and the two listened in as the keening noise reached its peak and slowly died.

"Beowolf," Jaune said.

"It sounded like it was back where we came from. Do you think it found the cave?"

"Maybe. Maybe it found the embers." In the dark it was hard to make out Jaune's face, but his words were filled with frustration. "We didn't have time to cover our tracks. Even a mindless beast can notice things that don't belong, like fires in a cave." He looked back at Ren. "That's why we want to bury a fire pit whenever possible," he shared. "Remember that for next time."

"Will it track us?" Ren wanted to know.

"It shouldn't. It'd probably fail if it tried." Jaune pushed himself up and moved away, Ren following. As they stepped over rocks and avoided crumbling shelves of shale, the hunter continued to whisper. "Beowolves may look like wolves, but they don't hunt like them. I don't know if it's impatience or just being Grimm, but they can't track a scent worth beans. If we were still in sight they'd chase us to the ends of Remnant, but as long as we don't leave a trail an idiot could follow they'll normally just spread out, poking around every bush until they get bored," he said with a shrug. "Maybe they've gotten too used to their prey being afraid and running away. Don't need scent if someone's breaking brush in a panic," he said. He looked at Ren again. "That's something else my Uncle taught me," he said. "If you want to slip by a Grimm, just make a noise as a decoy. Or you can take advantage of their hearing. Their hearing usually is pretty good, so you can startle or daze them in a fight if you do it right," he shared.

"I'll remember that," Ren agreed. It seemed like a weak thing to trust their life to, but Jaune- or at least his Uncle- knew more than he did. It was hard to accept that, but Professor Port's lessons were almost always focused on finding, hunting, and killing Grimm as quickly as possible, before they could harm anyone else. Not understanding how they hunted in turn.

Fortunately, Jaune's hypothesis proved true, or perhaps the Grimm weren't able to track them over such rocky terrain. Whatever the case, they faced no pursuit from the Grimm behind as they carried on, and although they occasionally heard the sound of a Nevermore cawing in the distance, none took to the air. It almost felt like it was easier to move during the night, though that was a tricky prospect given how shortened their line of sight was. It was cold, too, and had it been raining Ren was sure they wouldn't have made it.

They paused as the sun finally rose over the eastern horizon and painting golden hues across the sky, and turning the clouds red. What might have otherwise been a beautiful sight was little more than a chance to catch his breath. Ren panted lightly and looked to Jaune, unsure why he'd chosen to stop. For his part the hunter stared towards the sun and sighed.

"We'll need to get back into the forest. We can't be out in the open once the sun is up or every Nevermore from here to the mountains will see us."

Ren waved a hand. "Lead the way."

"Okay. We'll slip into the forest here and find a river to follow upstream. It should lead us to a mountain pass or-"

A loud sound shook the landscape. Some loose rocks nearby shook and skittered down around them, kicking up a cloud of dust. Ren looked to Jaune, but before he could open his mouth another loud bang shook them.

The two turned as one to look over towards the north, the direction of their destination. A cloud billowed and wisped into the air, but in the light of the sunrise Ren could tell it wasn't smoke, but tree parts and debris. As it billowed outwards and towards them, the figure within became visible over the top of the trees.

Ren's breath misted before his face. "Mouk!"

"Shit!" Jaune cursed loudly and hopped off the rock he was stood on. "Down to the valley floor. Quick!" He hurried towards the trees and Ren took only a second to follow, the both of them stumbling now as haste took over, pushing them to take more risks with their footing as they rushed down the ridge to the relative safety of the trees. All the while the behemoth lumbered inexorably towards them.

It was Ren who slipped first, a loose patch of pebbles giving way rather than giving the support he expected. He gasped as he lost balance, and almost slid down amidst a tumble of pebbles before Jaune caught him. The hunter half-turned, gripped his arm and hauled him back onto his feet and to the first of the trees on the ridgeline for balance. There was no time for gratitude as nearby Grimm began to howl and snarl. Maybe they'd heard the rucks tumbling. Maybe they'd just been driven into a frenzy by the presence of the larger monster. Either way they were surrounded, but not yet found.

"Don't stop," Jaune hissed, the two of them reaching the trees and ducking under the canopy, losing sight of Mouk at last. "We're not safe yet. Not with him so close. We need-" He gasped. "Damn it!"

Up ahead in a clearing, two Ursa were already facing them.

There was no chance to halt their pace or hide. Ren surged forwards, his guns falling into his hands as he reversed them so he could use the blades.

Like at the bullhead, he aimed for the throat first. Ren leapt into the first Ursa's guard, stabbing one blade into the joint under its arm so that it couldn't crush him, and the other into its throat. He then wrenched the first one out and used the other as a pivot to swing himself up onto its back, before he tore that free and kicked off, pushing the Grimm down. It fell with a gasp and began to dissolve.

The second was already raised onto its rear feet. An arrow whizzed past Ren, but glanced off the face mask and up into the eye. The beast didn't have the grace to die at once. It took Ren's near-tackle, and the blade to its skull, to finish it off. Before it died, though, it screamed; a roar of anger and pain.

That was all it took.

A mountain rose and roared in the distance. Ren's head was spinning at the sound even before a thunderous crash crushed the forest too near them.

"He's seen us," Jaune gasped.

There was no need to ask who. Even with him trying his best to kill them as quickly as possible, it had only taken an instance for the alert to be raised. Mouk entered the forest, pushing trees aside as it roared in what Ren swore wasn't anger but pure, unadulterated, and hateful joy.

Ren cursed and rushed after Jaune, the two fleeing deeper into the forest-valley. The commotion had awoken it and roars, howls and growls sounded all around them. Several Grimm saw them in their haste and began to chase, but there was nothing to be done. Nor was there any complaint from Jaune when Ren fired Stormflower at the closest of Grimm, a few junior Beowolves snipping at their heels. Gunfire didn't matter much now. A much bigger fish- so to speak- was already tracking them.

He ran hard enough to feel it, and even Jaune was clearly sprinting at an unsustainable rate. They couldn't stop for fear of Mouk crushing them just by catching up to them, and in their rush they darted past Beowolves and Ursa left and right. Ren wasted more shots to hinder the closest pursuers, but it was only a waste because what was the point? For each he maimed or made unable to pursue, something worse was about to arrive.

Ren panted for breath as he ducked under the clawed arm of one Beowolf that managed to approach from above, the air above his head whistling by. He didn't stop to finish it off after an initial counter-attacked clipped a tendon, or even to see what class the Grimm had been. He just focused on keeping Jaune in sight and not tripping in the forest, aware that to do so would be to die.

A quick look behind revealed the Grimm on their tail. Beyond that there was no sign of Mouk other than a looming darkness blocking out the stars, but he could hear trees being torn down, and that noise was getting ever closer.

A Beowolf stepped out of the trees ahead. Ren increased his pace and caught its attention so it wouldn't go for Jaune. The beast leapt for him, but he ducked aside and let it sail by, blinding it for its troubles as it passed. It soon fell behind them, running into a bush as it tried to follow. Like the rest of the Grimm, it no doubt followed… but fell behind.

It was delayed for a moment, but just a moment. As his muscles screamed and his lungs ached, Ren wondered where they were even running too. Grimm could be tireless. What was the plan here? Was there one? Jaune didn't seem to have one except 'away,' or run towards the opposite wall.

Then Jaune skid to a sudden stop, stopping so fast that Ren almost ran into him.

"Damn."

Jaune's voice filled him with less confidence than the reason why.

Before them was a stream - though it should really be called a flood channel. The creek that had carved this valley out lay before them, but calling it a creek did it no justice. White water rushed before them, practically a rapid, as a tree from somewhere upstream rushed passed with a dangerous fury. Had a dam upstream broke? Or was this just the result of the monsoon sweeping through the valley?

It didn't matter. It was impassable, at least for Jaune. The hunter had not just come to a stop, but even dropped his pack. It wouldn't matter - even dropping the bag wouldn't let him jump across to the other side. Not even Ren favoured his odds, and that was without factoring in his aching heel. Forget trying to carry Jaune either. Too much water rushed through a channel that had been cut out across hundreds of years.

"Don't have a choice," Jaune said, voice only seeming calm as he was taking deep breaths. Ren wondered if the other boy was about to hyperventilate as he drew his bow. "Water's too strong to bridge across. This side will have to do," he said as he drew a red-tipped arrow.

To do what, die? The sound of Grimm snarls would be here any moment. The edge of a mountain would reach them sooner, if the ground tremors were any clue. The only consolation was that Mouk might have crushed some of the pursuit.

Jaune released his red arrow, and it sped into the still-dark forest. It did nothing except hit a tree, and start a little smoke. He drew another one, and did it again. The arrows - _dust arrows!?_ \- quickly began to form dark black smoke in front of them. Ren looked behind them, and saw the white-water wash by.

It was very fast and deep.

"What now?" Ren asked, trying not to pant.

"I have an idea," Jaune said, still calmer than he had any right to be when something screeched in the not-quite-distance. "You just need to get across the river and find a cave to hole up in. I'll come back for you."

"Are you insane?" Ren snapped, eyes wide with alarm. The trees in front of them were ablaze now, an otherwise welcome warmth that did little but light up the darkness. There, on the far side of it, white masks and red eyes looked across the fires. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard! I can't leave you here."

"It won't even be in my top five. At least I didn't go to Beacon. That's number three." Jaune retorted, back to the river as he drew another arrow pulled back. Unlike the previous ones, this was tipped with white and yellow crystal. "Just go. Jump. I'll catch up later when I-"

Jaune never said what he would do, because he let go his arrow first, right as a terrible maw bit off the top of the canopy above them. Mouk's face burst through. The arrow met it almost instantly, and exploded in a flash of brilliant white light.

Light, and a terrible thunder clap, both blinded and deafened them as Jaune's arrow exploded. Ren's ears rang. Maybe that saved him from being deafened as Mouk roared rose up, face twisting up and away until the monster's mask was hidden in the rising plumes of smoke from the earlier arson. In the distance, other Grimm shrieked in pain too, and the red eyes dimmed for just a moment. Behind them, dark water rushed splashed behind Ren's feet.

"Go!" Jaune shouted, reaching for another arrow. "I'll make a diversion and-"

There was no time.

Ren grabbed Jaune and threw him in the river.

/-/

 _Tick. Tick. Tick._

No one in the little room in Edge said anything as Weiss finished speaking, ending her part of the story to date. No one- none of the girls at least- dared speak as they waited for the inevitable judgement. Blake looked down, where her hands rested on her lap. Yang reached for and found Ruby's hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Qrow, when he realized Weiss had nothing left to add, simply sighed.

The four girls waited for the elder Huntsman to do… anything, really. Berate them. Blame them. Tell him just how badly they messed up. Tell them they didn't deserve graduate Signal, let alone be in Beacon.

Instead, he brought one hand to his face and massaged his tired eyes. He'd only had a short nap since getting her. The subject wasn't exactly easy either. This was why he'd preferred to teach in Signal, rather than accept Oz's offers for a spot in Beacon. At least at Signal, the students wouldn't have the chance to mess up something as serious as this. Already he wanted a drink, and so did, unscrewing his flask and taking a swig. Bitter as always, but better to get over with, he supposed.

 _Tick. Tick. Tick._

Still not a peep.

Oh. Yeah. They were waiting for him to say something.

"Right," he said, and that alone made all four girls wince. He frowned. "You failed. I don't think there's any doubt about that. There's nothing I could say that would tell you anything more than what you've already told yourselves, is there?"

Not one of them denied it.

 _Tick. Tick. Tick._

"That's it? Nothing to say?" Qrow asked, a slight growl in his voice. "Nothing to add? Your friend is missing. Your guide was on an operating table. Your other guide was left behind. That's what you told me. Nothing to add?" Qrow challenged.

"It's our fault," Ruby whispered, filling the silence, as all four girls looked down.

Qrow nodded.

"It kind of is," he agreed.

All four girls flinched, and still refused to meet his eyes. Ruby's hands bunching on her knees while Yang bit her lip and looked at the floor. Even the faunus and the Schnee remained silent, waiting their turn for recrimination.

"It kind of is," Qrow said again, "but it also kind of isn't."

Like a snapped rubber band, all four of them looked at him with different forms of shock and disbelief… in all its forms.

"How the hell not?" Yang demanded angrily. "We lost Ren!"

"We not only failed to get him but we as good as crippled the person we were meant to protect," Weiss agreed, white hot intensity apparent despite the guilt. "Her life is ruined because of us!"

"We could have done better. We should have done better," Blake added. "We weren't the Huntresses we needed to be."

"You weren't. And if you want to pick it apart, that's your fault," Qrow agreed. "But if you want to mope and believe it's your fault that four teenage girls couldn't fight off a huge army of Grimm in one of the most dangerous spots in all of Remnant, then I have just three words for you," he warned.

"Get over yourselves."

If his earlier words had caused a snap, then this was a slap, as they looked at him incredulously.

"If you're blaming yourselves for being weak - if you think the sort of Huntress you needed to be was a saint with better moves or a better semblance, or just chose one thing differently - stop. There's a reason the Kingdoms haven't conquered the Grimmlands in all recorded history. Not even a professional team of Huntsmen would have been able to hold off the Grimm indefinitely, let alone guarantee a civilian's safety in the middle of all that. If you think you could have succeeded if you were just a bit better than you are, then you have a way too high opinion of yourselves."

More than one of them coloured.

"That's not - that's not what we're saying!" Blake protested, cheeks flushing red. "That's not what we're trying to say! It's not just about the Grimm, but before, and everything along the way. We wouldn't have had to fight if we'd just-" she choked, emotion overcoming her.

Qrow just looked at her one a measuring, and maybe apathetic, eye.

"I'll admit, by the sound of it you made a hash of things and some questionable decisions. But you've got to get it into your head that it's easy to look back on those and say they were wrong when shit goes south. Hind sight's twenty-twenty like that. The tricky part is deciding if they're right or wrong at the time. You wouldn't be beating yourself up half as hard about this if everything had turned out alright."

It was obvious they didn't understand, so he turned to his niece.

"Ruby, you're the one who made the call not to rest through the night. Why?"

His niece tensed immediately, and shame flooded her cheeks with red.

"I… I was stupid…"

"I didn't ask what you think of yourself now," he cut off brusquely. "I asked why you made the decision you did. What were you thinking about? What went through your mind, Ruby? And only Ruby," he added sharply when Yang made to speak. "She's the team leader."

Yang, Blake and Weiss stiffened, but be it the general mood or his authority, they remained silent. Ruby squirmed under his gaze, and privately Qrow sympathized. There was nothing harder than thinking you'd disappointed someone you cared about.

Eventually, she managed.

"I was worried about Ren," Ruby said. "Kalie said CRDL and Jaune might be outside in the rain, but at least they were together. I started thinking about what if Ren was cold, and alone, or afraid, and…" She gripped her skirt tighter. "I could tell we weren't going to be able to sleep like that. No one would have been rested if everyone else wanted to go. I thought we could get away with it too, since Kalie said all of the Grimm should have been holing up in their own caves. That would have meant the outside was safer. And even if Kalie was a little scared, we had Blake and her night-vision, and even if Kalie was still scarred at least she wouldn't feel trapped in the cave and she could rely on us…" she trailed off, as if ashamed at her rationalizations.

"So you assumed you wouldn't run into anything in the rain, and decided not to set up camp and push on anyway. That about right?"

"Y-Yeah…"

"Was that a bad call?"

Ruby's head lowered. "Yeah," she admitted in quiet shame.

"Why?"

Ruby didn't understand. Neither did any of the others. "Because-"

"Because Kalie got hurt? Or because it was a bad decision?"

Their confusion was obvious, and Qrow sighed. Kids. He leaned forward, as if to impart great wisdom.

"Ruby, bad decisions aren't the decisions that don't work out. They're the decisions that should never been made in the first place and weren't justified at the time. Even good decisions can fail. Your decision…" he trailed, and shrugged. "It isn't what I would have done, but it wasn't a _bad_ decision."

"But Kalie was hurt! We failed!" Ruby protested, refusing his absolution.

But that wasn't the point.

"I didn't say it _worked_ ," Qrow clarified. "I didn't say it couldn't have been _better_. But it wasn't bad. You didn't make it on the fly without any thought. At the time, with what you thought you knew, you weighed the risks and made a decision. That's what good leaders do, Ruby, even when they fail."

"I… don't understand."

"Yeah, I can tell." Qrow crossed one leg over the other and leaned an elbow on his knee. The confusion going through the team had them looking at him now, which was preferable to self-pitying misery.

"Look, let's be honest here- you weren't wrong in thinking your friend needed to be rescued as soon as possible. There was a good chance he was dead before you even entered the forest, and without someone to keep watch the night can be deadly for a single traveller. Yeah, you could have assumed that if he'd survived this long he would survive another night, but that's still just an assumption. Just another way of weighing concerns without knowing the facts. If you'd stayed in your cave, and he'd died in his because no one found him before a Grimm, would camping have helped? What if you all ran into trouble the next morning, but fought worse because all of you had stayed up all night worrying and people died? Would you have made the right decision then?"

Qrow shook his head. "Bad decisions come from bad reasons. Yours weren't. I might not have done the same thing as you, but it wasn't wrong call for you to recognise and act on your concerns."

"But Kalie was hurt," Weiss protested, speaking up. "She told us she was scared," she insisted. "She was our responsibility."

"So she was," Qrow agreed, despite not having met the girl yet. He'd been here only long enough to catch a quick nap, after all. "But tell me this - whose responsibility was it that she was out there in the first place?"

All four of them stilled. Good. Qrow twisted the knife further.

"Who made the choice?" Qrow demanded. "If she was afraid of Grimm, afraid enough to draw them to her, but couldn't defend herself if they did… whose fault is it that the Grimm attacked? Whose fault was it that she was loaded onto your team?"

"That's not fair!" Blake protested at once, sitting straight and almost leaping from her seat.

"Kalie was our responsibility," Weiss agreed. "Her lack of skill was a known quantity. We should have accounted for it."

"Yeah," Yang agreed, righteous ire raising as she jumped to her feet. "You can't blame her, Uncle Qrow. She's the victim!"

Her fire froze when Qrow looked at with alien eyes, a dead man's glare which didn't end when he took a deliberate swig of his canteen. In a flash, her ardour cooled. This… this wasn't Uncle Qrow, the fun-loving and cool uncle. This was someone else. Someone before he was their Huntsman Uncle.

"I've seen a lot of victims in my time, Yang," the now-Huntsman said, looking at the girls with the pitiless eyes of a bandit surveying a ravaged caravan. "Not all of them make the bad decisions that put them there themselves. I tend to save my pity for those who just happen to be in the wrong bar at the wrong time when someone else makes a bad call for them."

And just like that, Yang fell back to her seat.

Qrow looked back at them. It was Uncle Qrow again, but the niceness they'd taken for granted wasn't there. Or maybe it was, but they weren't used to this sort of love.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again: get over yourselves. If you think this mission failed because of you, and that if you were a little bit better or a little bit more mature then everything would have been good, then you haven't been paying attention. It's not all about you. It's not all your fault - it's not just your fault - and you've learned nothing if you think you're the only one to blame. That is exactly the sort of hole you need to get your heads out of if you want to move forward."

Qrow shook his head, and began to count on his fingers. "Your guide was afraid of Grimm but volunteered to lead you through a region explicitly called the _Grimmlands_. Your only other option, by the sounds of it, was a piece of work who hates Huntresses like you. Ozpin let you volunteer for this rescue, despite you being a bunch of kids without the experience to know how to do this right. Oz was willing to trade favours to have the SDC help get this expedition off the ground, but wasn't willing to pull strings or pay the costs to get anyone more competent to come along. And, fifth and finally…" Qrow concluded, on his last finger of the hand, "there was your friend who volunteered for frontier survey in the first place, and who put himself as far away from Beacon as possible while still technically being within Vale. On his own, mind you. If he'd gotten himself lost somewhere more convenient, or just never volunteered in the first place, none of this mess would have happened and no one would have gotten hurt."

"So, tell me," Qrow asked, leaning forward and looking at all of them. "Whose fault is it really that the mission failed?"

The girls awkwardly stayed silent, and Qrow dismissively shook his head.

"You kids are, like, _maybe_ twenty percent of what was wrong with this mission. At most. Frankly, it's amazing this mission got off the ground in the first place."

"But if we'd just listened, or did things differently…" Blake began.

"Then maybe things would have gone better, or maybe things would be worse," Qrow said without much empathy. "Maybe your other guide would be the one crippled. Maybe your girl would be _dead_ because the other team weren't able to keep her safe. Maybe you'd _all_ be dead," he said. "Different doesn't mean better."

"And this…?" Ruby asked.

"You made some mistakes," Qrow admitted. "Serious mistakes," he added, looking at Yang and Ruby in particular. "But what's important now isn't that you feel guilty. It's that you feel guilty enough to actually learn from the mistakes, and part of that is to understand what the actual mistakes were. Not just your own, but the mistakes of others too. You won't learn from them otherwise"

"I just wish we'd listened more to her," Blake whispered, regretful. "We treated her like her opinion didn't matter."

"Like she was just a civilian," Yang said.

"You still are," Qrow pointed out, though a bit more gently than before. "Don't you get it? You refused to listen to her because you saw yourselves as the only ones whose opinions mattered. Now, you're refusing to believe any of them can be responsible because you're seeing yourselves as the only ones who could or should have done something different. Right or wrong, you're still not giving them any credit."

Ruby's fingers curled. "That's not," she began, but didn't know how to complete the though. "We didn't- we aren't trying to-"

Qrow softened and gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I know." He understood. "And it's not your fault. Not really. You've just never known anything else. You entered Signal at eleven and don't leave Beacon until you're twenty-one. That's ten years, almost half your life being told you're all that stands between humanity and the Grimm. Every time you're sent out of town or beyond the walls, it's to see normal civilians completely relying on you to save them. Normal folk being utterly useless."

Qrow sighed, and looked off to the side, and out the window… where despite the ongoing rain, life continued. People in ponchos moved sandbags, slogged through streets, and did the things to make sure there would still be a town tomorrow and the day after the storms.

"You never see them when they manage just fine on their own. No one took you on field trips to see safe towns on the frontier standing just fine without you, solving their own problems or fighting off the Grimm on their own. No one begs for a Huntsman to come when everything's fine. You just see them at their worst or most desperate, and that's all you see. That's all you've seen. That'll affect how you see them, especially at your age."

Sadly, there wasn't much they could do about it. Most Huntsmen started training early for a reason. There were a life-time of skills to learn each generation, and never enough Huntresses to cover every need. There just wasn't the time to waste in having students stand around when there _wasn't_ any Grimm to fight.

"You failed," Qrow concluded, "but that doesn't mean your job ends here. If you don't want to taste defeat in the future, learn from it now. Think about what you did wrong… and what you did right. And then do the same for others. Don't just think that because things failed, everything you did was wrong. If you went back and did everything opposite, you never would have come out here or even tried to save your friend. That's the only choice you could have made that would have ensured he died. Everything else involves chance."

The girls looked at themselves, uneasy and uncertain. This wasn't… this wasn't the scolding that maybe they'd been expecting. But that didn't make things clearing going forward either.

"I leave you to it," Qrow said, rising to his feet with a groan. "I've got some sleep to catch on, and then other things handle. But while I do…" he looked at them.

"Realizing you did something wrong is just the first step. If you really feel responsible, try to make things right," he advised. "Learning from your mistakes and the experiences of is the best you can do going forward." He turned to leave. "Don't give up on that, and you won't have given up on your friends."

"What about Ren and Jaune?" Ruby called out, before he could leave. "Will… will there be another attempt to find them?"

Qrow paused, but didn't turn back.

"When the monsoons end, we'll… we'll see," he said. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either.

It was perhaps kinder to let them keep a little hope for now.

/-/

Ren gasped for breath as his head and shoulders burst above the roaring current. Raging white froth struck him in the face half-a-second later and he was dragged back under again, his lungs filled with river water and his body burning for oxygen. The current caught his legs and pulled him down, but rather than fight it he allowed it to, until he reached the bottom and was able to kick back up. This time when his head broke the surface he was prepared, and he took in a greedy gulp before he was forced under again.

He and Nora had swum together in streams and rivers before, but those were nothing compared to a monsoon-fed flood channel. Even a Huntsman like himself would be overwhelmed by this current. Water that might have been calm and clear any other time had turned into a miasma of silt, pebbles, and anything else that could be pulled away downstream.

Including people and even Grimm.

His back slammed into a rock that seemed to come out of nowhere, and he bounded off and was thrown into another before he could catch himself. If it wasn't for his aura he'd have been knocked out entirely. As it was, aura alerted him again when something splashed down into the water behind him, growling as if angry at the inconvenience.

His mouth was too busy gulping air and water to groan.

Ren dove and turned underwater, readying his weapons, but even through the wash it was obvious the Beowolf wasn't in a position to attack. It had either fallen or been pushed into the stream carrying them away, and was struggling to reach the surface. The creature was so heavy that its own bone plates were dragging it down, though that didn't stop one claw from reaching out and starting to grasp Ren's leg and pull him down.

With a surge of his semblance to regain control, Ren channelled aura into a strike at the creatures. It wasn't aa good hit, but it was enough. The creature opened its mouth in response, and the flooding water did the rest.

That wasn't the own Grimm struggling. Others seemed just as suited for the white waters. What was far, far upstream now, Ren saw a glimpse of soggy beasts struggling to climb out of the current. Others were clearly drowning. Already they were far away and getting farther, smoke Jaune's earlier fire blanketing the ground and cutting off sight.

That would do nothing against Mouk, whose head now reached across the river and was turning to and fro, clearly scanning the flood stream.

Whether Mouk would be able to see him or not, the Huntsman didn't know. At the very least, the monster's blind eye was turned towards them at that moment. Ren dived under when it turned back their way, trusting his academy training, and stopped resisting the current entirely. The current was pulling him further away. The further away they got, the better. His chest burned and he forced down the instinct to push up for air. If Mouk saw him then oxygen wouldn't matter.

 _Just a little longer_ , he thought, eyes clenched shut. The current was going at a run - more than a run - for anything on the river-bank. In just a little time they could make real distance. Just a few bends in the stream would break line of sight with Mouk's hunting party. Ren's back hit a rock, but he let aura absorb the blow and bounced around it, continuing to be swept away. His hands were gripped into fists. He had to stay under for as long as he could, and hope he could catch up to the companion slightly downstream of him.

A breath came, and then a hold. And then a desperate release and then another as he went back under. Soon he did feel the curves in a creek. Soon they were back under a solid canopy, and no Grimm could be seen no matter how tall. Soon they were some distance away, and he could hear no screams or growls of the Grimm. Soon he could hear nothing but the sound of rapid running waters, and nothing else.

Still, he went back under. And then the current slammed him into a lot of logs and rocks, and tried to list him over a ledge. Unprepared, and with nothing to brace against, Ren was lifted up and over by the flow of the water, and thrown over the dam.

It was a waterfall.

Technically. Not the sort with views or vistas, but though the view was impressive as Ren was thrown ass over end. It was a mere few feet to the new water line, but that was enough for Ren to rotate and see the obstacle. Trees, boulders, and who know how much mud had been packed over the years into a natural dam, breaking the current's path. It flowed over, and around, but here the ledge had thrown him to a slightly less violent run-off, where water flowed but not as swiftly or deep. As he tumbled into the side-stream and towards a shallow bank, Ren saw a hint of green ahead of him.

Good.

They were safe. It seemed impossible, but they'd escaped. If Mouk was still following them, he'd surely be hearing it as he caught his breath. Ren looked for Jaune, ready to celebrate, or at least share a laugh in relief.

That froze in his throat when he saw the body on the opposite bank, face and slumped over a half-submerged tree stump.

It only took Ren less than a second to realise the problem. Panic shot through him as he recognised the green outfit, and the hood that had fallen off the blonde hair. Jaune wasn't moving.

"No!"

Ren nearly leapt to the other side, though his own soaked clothes and waist-high water made it more of a slog. When his bag- somehow still attached to him- caught on a branch, Ren broke that branch without a care. It didn't matter… Jaune mattered.

If Jaune died, he died. It was as simple as that. He had no idea where they were. He had no idea what to do. No training scenario had ever prepared him for that. He needed Jaune.

 _Don't you dare die,_ he thought with a snarl, finally reaching Jaune and beginning to drag him up the other bank. Every two steps forward were met with a slide back down towards the creek, and it only got worse the faster he scrambled for purchase. The soaked clothes, easily adding tens of pounds, weren't helping. _You're not allowed to drown after giving me so much grief for being useless. Don't do this to me, you hypocrite!_

Jaune might have disagreed had he been conscious, or even alive. There was no telling if he was or not. With a gasp of effort, Ren threw Jaune atop the embankment, high enough that he wouldn't fall off. With another gasp, Ren dragged himself up as well, before crawling towards the other boy. Jaune was just as he'd thrown him. He hadn't moved. He wasn't moving. What was he supposed to do? He'd never seen this before, never with Nora, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do. What was he supposed to do?!

 _Calm,_ he thought, desperately scratching for reason. _I have to be calm. Nothing will be better for panicking._

Ren remembered to activate his semblance.

Like a lotus blossom blossoming on a clear and peaceful pond, tranquillity brought harmony. Chaos, fear, and distraction fell away, along with everything else. All that was left was peace, and purpose, and thought.

 _Think_ , he told himself next. _You may not have seen this before, but you may have learned about it. What did they teach you to do if someone was injured?_

Help. Care. Provide aid, first aid if necessary. Keep the person alive, and deal with the most serious affliction first. Start with the first question first- is this person alive?

Ren looked at Jaune, who was still silent. He was so still. His chest wasn't moving. But a careful touch to the neck, and the artery that brought life-blood to the brain…

Thin. Weak. But present. _He's alive._

Good. What next? What was the most life-threatening?

 _ABC. Open Airway. Stop Bleeding. Control Shock…_

He rolled Jaune onto his back, taking pressure off his chest. Still no movement of his chest. _Lower your ear to the mouth. Can you hear anything?_

No. But maybe that was because his own breathing was still too hard. He brought his cheek to where Jaune's mouth was, but he didn't feel any air movement either.

 _An obstruction in the airway._ Water. _What do you do next?_

If there was blockage in the mouth, remove it. If it was inside… CPR.

Step one- push. He moved his hands and his body weight above Jaune's chest. Gauging his strength- making sure he wouldn't do too hard and crack the boy's ribs- he pushed. And pushed again. And again, and again, and again, at a rate of more than once per second.

 _Step two - breath_. Not just his own, though he did that too. He moved back to Jaune's head, tilting his chin up as he checked again. If there was nothing yet, he'd have to blow fresh air in. If Jaune wasn't breathing on his own… any juvenile embarrassment could wait for later. What mattered now was if anything changed.

 _Step three -_ A tiny bit of water hit Ren's cheek as Jaune coughed.

When the first cough came, the water fell back down because of gravity. But that first cough was soon followed by a second, and third, as more followed. Jaune seemed to restart, coughing up water, and slowly but painfully coming back to life as water was ejected from his system. His head tipping to the side helped. Ren rolling him over just so, so he wouldn't choke on his own ejection, helped more.

Soon Jaune's limbs were starting to move again, his eyes were open, and Jaune was hacking up water and more in full measure. It was ugly and unsightly, and all Ren could do was listen in case any Grimm were close enough to come after the helpless hunter. That, and hold Jaune up so that he could hurl, and breath, easier. Given the turn of events, and his semblance, Ren didn't mind whatever got on his waterlogged robes, even as Jaune was curled on his knees. Tears were running down the young man's face as he struggled, and was barely able to, breath.

"Go…" Jaune groaned, between lessening heaves. "We have to… have to go…"

"We're not going anywhere till you're ready," Ren said. "Don't worry. I have you," he tried to reassure, putting a hand on Jaune's shoulder and sharing his semblance. Capable or not, the hunter had just had a near death experience.

But that wasn't it. It wasn't fear driving him to speak, not quite.

"Cave…" Jaune groaned, before curling in on himself more in obvious pain.

"I don't know where one is," Ren admitted, starting to look around. The 'waterfall' was over a short ledge, but otherwise they were still in the middle of the valley. Who knows…

Jaune barely managed to raise an arm and extend a finger in a seemingly random direction.

"Now," Jaune moaned, even as his head was against the dirt and he was in no condition to move. "Before Mouk…"

Mouk wasn't here. There was no crashing forest approaching them. Jaune clearly couldn't walk on his own.

"Please… trust me…"

Despite his semblance, Ren frowned. Guilt, it seemed, wasn't entirely emotional.

"Alright," he said, kneeling down and looping one of Jaune's arms over his shoulder. And then another. Before the still stomach-sore hunter knew what was happening, he was lifted and against Ren's back looking over his shoulder.

"Which direction?" Ren asked, trying to avoid putting pressure against Jaune's chest even as he held the larger boy on his back.

Jaune arm weakly raised and pointed.

/-/

"That," Jaune said later, when he was finally able to talk, "was definitely in my top five of stupidest things ever done."

"You're welcome," Ren said, unperturbed. "And for probably saving your life."

They were in a cave, though it hardly warranted the name. Barely a crevice in the side of the hill. How Jaune had found it, Ren didn't know, maybe just assuming there would be one somewhere, but here they were. Badly soaked, barely alive, and bitterly at odds.

Or would be if Ren's semblance would let him feel such trifles. Extending it to Jaune was probably worth it as well, despite how it was taxing him. Still weak from his near drowning, the hunter hadn't worked up the energy to be furious. Now they just sat against opposite walls, looking at each other, and Ren wasn't sure what was coming next as Jaune stared at him. Stared, and tried to glare, and probably too out of it to realize why he wasn't. Jaune was leaning to his side, one arm against his chest even as his held onto the soggy red bandana still on his arm.

"Maybe I wouldn't have needed it if somebody hadn't thrown me into a raging river and over a waterfall."

Despite the words, there was a clear lack of vigour behind it. Ren sighed, and leaned against his side.

"Did you have something better than jumping in mind?" he asked, frank.

"I had a plan," Jaune claimed, but sullenly. He was also looking away.

Ren sighed.

"It looked like you were about to use yourself as a distraction. I don't care how unafraid you are, a flashbang or two wasn't going to be enough to let get away unnoticed. There were too many, too close, for that to work. Or am I wrong?"

"…"

If Jaune didn't correct him, then he probably wasn't. Probably.

"If it helps, I thought you could swim. Sorry."

Now Jaune coloured. "I didn't exactly grow up around water, you know. Besides, that was flood water. What did you expect? I'm not some freak of nature who can swim upstream in a flood."

He ignored the jibe. "I know. I'm sorry," Ren repeated again. "I was so worried about getting away as fast as possible, I didn't think about that. I should have held on to you." Then he could have shielded him from the debris in the river. Then he could have ensured he was still breathing.

Jaune coloured in a different way. "I don't need to be rescued like that by the likes of you, you idiot Huntsman," he snapped.

Ren closed his eyes and leaned back. "You have my apologies for saving your life, then," he said. "And don't call me that," he added.

"You thought the best way to save my life was to throw me into a raging river and over a waterfall without telling me. That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard," Jaune countered.

"It was barely six feet, and that was hardly a river."

"It's water, it falls, it's a waterfall. And it was close enough. It was your idea, and you're a Huntsman. The dumbest Huntsman I've ever heard of."

Ren sighed, but didn't fight. He had a feeling that, semblance or no, Jaune wouldn't be giving up that insult any time soon.

Ren's refusal to fight led to a silence, as both regained strength. Ren felt exhausted, but at the moment… he was probably the better one off. He may have been isolated for longer, but he at least hadn't half-drowned. On the other side, Jaune had curled his arms around his legs, holding himself for warmth - and comfort? - even as he stroked the red bandana wrapped around his arm as a bandage.

Eventually, Jaune sighed.

"Never mind," the hunter said, giving up on the issue with obvious frustration. "We're alive, so it all worked out in the end. Uncle always said that any encounter with the Grimm you could walk away from was a good one." He rubbed his side, and winced. "Don't think he had this in mind, though."

Ren said nothing. He hadn't expected Jaune to give up his ire so easily. He half-expected another shoe to drop… even though it was a small miracle he still had his own. They hadn't been swept away by the current, at least.

"We're boned, though," Jaune added, despite his calm. "Completely and utterly boned."

"How so?" Ren asked. "You just said-"

"How's your bag?" Jaune asked. "Heck, how's my bag?"

Ren froze, despite his calm. His bag… it was still on him, but soaked beyond all reason. There'd be no dry clothes tonight, or any other night in the near future. Who knows how everything else in there had fared, but at least he had a bag. Jaune's, though…

Jaune had dropped it all the way back where they started. All the way back with Mouk, before they jumped in.

Before he'd thrown Jaune in.

"Oh," Ren said, not having thought about the bag.

"Oh indeed," Jaune said, but didn't snap. "My maps, our supplies… we kind of need them. But that's not the worst of it," he claimed.

"It's not?" Ren asked, sense of dread growing.

"It's not," Jaune said. "I can get us out of the Grimmlands without a map, but getting back to civilization will be harder. Like, a lot harder. And I can make do without supplies for a while, even if it won't be fun. But what I can't do - at least not in the Grimmlands - is hunt."

He looked Ren dead in the eye, and Ren had a sudden chill of understanding.

"Where's my bow, Ren?"

Ren's eyes widened as he looked at the Jaune again. Not in terms of health, but… there was his quiver, secured to his side, but it was empty. Whatever arrows he had- whatever tricks he'd had up his sleeve- were gone. No doubt washed away in the river. An empty quiver was meaningless without the weapon to go with it, and Jaune's was nowhere to be seen.

Not since Ren had startled him by grabbing him and throwing him in the river.

If Ren hadn't been under the effect of his own semblance, he would have cussed.

"I have to go back for it," Jaune said, starting to rise to his feet. "I could hunt for whatever we needed if I had it, but I'll be as good as a one-armed Beowolf if I don't. The maps and supplies are good too, but I have to have my bow if we're to be good on food."

"You can't!" Ren protested, standing up in turn. "That was- Mouk and the rest of the Grimm are still there! They'll be swarming! You were sure we'd be detected on the Southern Pass!"

"Yeah. Probably," Jaune agreed, before looking at him again. "That's why I have to go alone."

Ren felt another chill, even as his semblance tried to neutralize the emotion.

"That's suicide."

"Not for me it isn't," Jaune said.

"Do you even know if it's still up there?" Ren asked. "Maybe you dropped it in the water. Maybe it…" Maybe it washed down the river- the main flood creek- and they'd never find it again.

Maybe his well-intentioned throw - which had saved them - had more of a cost than he'd thought. Jaune, though…

Jaune didn't seem nervous at all. "Mouk won't be there."

"How can you be so sure?" Ren asked.

"Because he won't stick around once it's clear we're gone," Jaune asserted. "Mouk doesn't like smoke anymore, and smart or not he's still a Grimm. Even if he realizes we slipped into the stream, he'll be looking downstream - not for anything coming back up," Ren explained. "Grimm always expect you to run away, not stay or follow. The last place he'd expect us is back where he chased us to from."

"You say us, but you mean you, don't you?" Ren asked. " _You_ will be fine. _You_ can sneak through them." Ren watched his companion warily.

Jaune nodded. "It'd probably be best if you stayed here," he said. "Grimm may come downstream if they're clever, but you should be fine if you stay in the cave. Your bag didn't have anything essential. I'll come back with mine when I've searched the river side."

"I can't let you go out there alone and unarmed."

Jaune stilled. It was as bad as he'd feared. Ren let out a long sigh and prepared for the argument he knew would be coming. It was always the same thing.

The hunter scoffed. "So much for trust."

"This isn't about trust; it's about being reasonable," Ren protested. "I accept you can hold your own in a fight, but you can't even protect yourself anymore. You're expecting me to let you travel back to the exact point where we were almost killed. That's just stupid. Even if you had your bow, you wouldn't have enough arrow to kill all the Grimm."

"I don't _intend_ to fight at all," Jaune returned. "Unless you've forgotten, I'm a hunter. The only thing I hunt are animals. This is no different. I've gone through the Grimmlands before without into trouble."

"Trouble that already found us."

"Trouble that already found you. I'm just caught up in it. When are you going to trust that I can handle myself without you? You're the liability out here, not me."

Ren froze. Part of him wanted to be angry, offended. Another part…

He'd done decently so far, or so he'd like to think. He'd done most of the fighting at the Bullhead. He was willing to help, and he was willing to listen. Or at least, he'd been willing to listen once he realized he was out of his depth. When Jaune had shown him Mouk, and that Southern Pass was off limits, he'd been willing to change his mind.

But he'd had to see it to believe it. Just like he'd had to see Jaune's other skills to take him seriously. He hadn't exactly been able to handle everything himself either.

Jaune held Ren's gaze.

"We don't have the time for me to prove myself to you. I _have_ to go recover my gear. I won't be able to do it with you, and you wouldn't be able to save me if I get caught. That's a risk you'll have to take, just like I have to trust that you won't bring down a thousand Grimm on yourself the moment I step out of sight. _Trust me_ ," Jaune emphasized. "I can do this. It won't even be one of the five most dangerous things I've done before."

Silence fell upon them. Ren wasn't sure what to think, but continued to stare at the hunter. The words were sincere, but how much of that composure was because of Ren's semblance? How much would nearly drowning affect him? Weaken him?

How much dared he trust what he'd never seen? This wasn't a question of marksmanship or general woodcraft. This was something on a whole other level.

Something he'd only heard in the tallest of tales.

Ren took a breath.

"I heard… someone once told me you survived the uncharted Grimmlands, the ones no one has ever come back from. That you came back, dragging yourself with a broken leg, after going there all alone."

He looked Jaune dead in the eye.

"Is that true?"

Jaune's eyes widened, just a tad, before he looked to the side. Not in evasion, but to give off a little 'tch' before looking back. "I wasn't alone. Not really," Jaune admitted with a shrug. "I had a partner back then. I may have crawled half the way back, but she dragged me the other half."

Ren sighed, disappointed but not surprised.

"She was no Huntress, though, if that's what you were thinking," Jaune added, making Ren pause again. "She's the only one I'd ever trust my back to out there, but she didn't have any special powers or fancy weapons. She wasn't the only reason I survived that hell-scape either. I've done it on my own since… since she left."

It sounded fantastical, ridiculous. No normal person could make such a journey. Hell, not even the most famous Huntsman in history had marched out of the Grimmlands like that. It was suicide. He had no reason to believe the tall tale.

But then… that was what trust meant, wasn't it? Not just what you'd seen, but what others had learned. And to not dismiss their faith so easily.

"I still can't let you go alone and unarmed," Ren said, before pushing past Jaune's sharpening glare to push something in his hands instead. "Take this. It's dangerous to go alone."

One of Ren's weapons lay in Jaune's palm.

"That's very important to me, so I'll want it back," Ren warned, even as he guided Jaune's hand on how to trigger its transformation function. "But until then, you can use it as a knife if you need, or a gun if you must. It doesn't have much ammo left, but if I hear shots I'll come running," he promised.

Jaune looked at him, and Ren suspected he was trying not to smile.

"I don't think I'll need it," Jaune said, almost cocky instead. "Sure you don't want it, so you can fight off all the Grimm coming downstream?" he asked.

"I wasn't intending to fight them at all," Ren said, a hint of a smile passing his lips despite the miserable conditions. "But I suppose you'll just have to trust me on that."

There was no doubt- there was definitely a twitch at Jaune's lips.

"Alright," Jaune said, pocketing Stormflower. "I will. And if you actually manage to stay out of trouble until the time I get back, I may even have to change my mind about you being an idiot Huntsman."

"Get out of here already," Ren said, before adding a more sincere "Good luck."

Jaune nodded, adjusted his red armband, and took a deep breath.

"I'll be back once I have my sack and look around," Jaune said. "Don't worry about me- I'll find you," he promised. Then he was gone, and it was surprising just how quickly Ren lost sight of him outside the cave and into the newest drizzle of the monsoon.

Ren waited at least five minutes before he stirred himself again, and stepped out as well.

He'd said he wouldn't fight the Grimm. He hadn't said anything about not doing anything to help in the meantime. Jaune was going to look for his bow upstream, where they'd jumped. That meant someone else would need to search downstream, where it might have washed aground.

"Trust me," he whispered.

He would not be a liability.

* * *

 **CF's Notes:**

* * *

 **Yay new year. And yay first chapter that didn't really get a week-out process.**

 **Due to how things rolled with the new year, this chapter was kind of… rushed? Hurried at least. Busy is as busy does, and Coeur got this to me right as I got dragged into RL stuff. Oh well. There were a lot of things that changed, from conversations to trying to make action sequences work in my head to cliff-hangers. Hurriedness meant a less coordination than I liked, though I think this will work well as we return focus to the hunter survival/escape plot. Can't have RWBY angsting over everything.**

 **(But we can have some tough love with Qrow. Hopefully that's as fun for you as it was for me.)**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 20th January**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	10. Chapter 10

**Welcome back.**

* * *

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

 **Chapter 10**

* * *

It was strange how lonely one could feel after just a few days in company, even lonelier than before. Ren no longer even had his little cave, and without Jaune leading the way the only semblance of safety he had left was his own semblance. Even the idea of going back to the cave to hole up in no longer seemed reassuring, not with Mouk around. Ignorance had been a bliss of its own, or at least would have been until the giant monster crushed his cave and buried him alive with a single stomp.

More than an hour after they'd separated, Ren picked his way over some wet logs by the stream and followed it down, looking for Jaune's pack or bow. Everything looked the same to him and he didn't have Jaune's experience in the wilderness, so he'd started at the water drop they'd washed over and gone downstream from there. After not finding anything or determining that there was nothing to find anywhere nearby, he could follow the stream back upstream before returning to the cave and waiting for Jaune like expected.

And, of course, he'd need to trust Jaune to go back into the very belly of the beast and recover anything upstream, all without a huntsman to aid him or the training required to deal with any of the Grimm he came across.

"Trust," Ren whispered to himself, half a mantra and half a quiet rebuke. "You wouldn't have let him go if you didn't think he'd return."

Maybe. It was… hard, and not just from having spent so much time with other Huntsmen and Huntresses. He'd tried to accept that Jaune could survive without him. He had to believe that being a civilian didn't mean one was useless. There was a lot about the wilds he didn't know.

But he'd known hunters too, once upon a time. And no one knew better than him what could- would- happen if a Grimm caught a hunter alone. Hunters weren't Huntsmen. There was a reason Remnant needed Huntsmen.

"Trust," he whispered to himself again, before reaching for his semblance once more to sooth the familiar fear and pain. He had to reach deeper than normal to touch that power, and pulling it took longer than usual, but in time his chest relaxed and he was… if not comfortable, at least not as uneasy.

Just in time, too. A snuffling up ahead was followed by a loud splash. Ren was moving a second later, pressing his back against a tree. His single Stormflower came to his grasp and adrenaline flooded his body, even as his attention narrowed with a Huntsman's razor-sharp focus. A Beowolf, bedraggled and wet, was beside the stream. It might have fallen in, or just been drinking. He peeked around the tree. It was medium-sized at best, not an alpha but no juvenile. Just the one, however. An easy kill… assuming it was alone. A glint of metal made his eyes widen, however, as he realized what it had drawn from the river.

Jaune's bow, still intact, and even now being poked and prodded by the monster.

Ren felt a mix of shock and excitement. It must have seen it and recognized it as belonging to a human and dragged it out of the water. What luck! Not only did finding it make this entire down-stream detour worthwhile but finding it would no doubt put Jaune at ease when he failed to locate it upstream. It would be a much-needed bit of good news, and a perfect peace offering to make up for having nearly drowned him hours before.

Now, however, the Beowolf was nosing about it, even plucking at the string with a wicked claw. Ren crouched low and readied to rush out and slay the creature. If none of its pack had come to share its curiosity, it was probably alone. It would be an easy kill for a Huntsman of his calibre.

But he paused.

Jaune was on his own further up-river. Going by what he'd said before, if Ren killed this Grimm, then its pack would notice the absence and go on alert. If they were alerted, so would Mouk. So soon after their last encounter, no doubt the monster would come bounding down the river that even now Jaune was moving up on, putting the hunter in incredible danger.

Ren's lips thinned and he put Stormflower away. He leaned back behind the tree and let out a short breath. No one needed a reckless Huntsman right now. He needed to start thinking like a hunter, like a survivor.

 _Jaune wouldn't attack a Grimm he didn't have to_ , he thought. Why? _Because Beowolves hunt humans, not their belongings. This one shouldn't have much interest in the bow once it realises the wielder isn't around._

That seemed likely to be proven true. The Beowolf continued to poke and prod at the bow, sniffing around, but what Jaune had said about senses seemed right. Despite a huge huff of air, there was nothing to suggest it had caught Jaune's scent upstream… or caught wind of Ren, hiding meters away behind a tree. At one point it reached down to grip the bow in its claws, and Ren prepared himself to move if he had to, but he didn't. The Beowolf simply tossed the bow away, not even into the stream, before it growled and lifted its head, ears perked in some random direction.

It howled once, and then loped slowly off into the brush.

He gave it a minute or two even so, if only to be sure it hadn't stuck around or that it wasn't drawing more Grimm to investigate. As the river rushed by on his left and the trees rustled to the right, Ren drew a deep breath and held it, listening for any sounds of Grimm.

None. He was alone.

Perfect.

Jaune's bow was where the Beowolf had left it, but aside from a superficial scratch along the grip it looked much the same as the last time he saw it. The compound materials were wet with water, obvious, and the bow string soaked, but it was whole. With a test of the string and a frown- that was Hunter wire for sure, no homespun makeshift bow string to go slack from the water- Ren took it and placed it on his shoulder. It was intact, and that was all that mattered, even if it dripped water constantly.

Still, killing the Beowolf wouldn't have made it any less soaked. It might have been quicker to kill the Beowolf, but he'd managed to reclaim the bow without issue or expanding any energy… and considering how hard Jaune was likely to push them tomorrow, that was probably a good thing.

"Slow and steady wins the race," he whispered, looping it onto his back. He shivered as water ran down him, but it wasn't much cooler than the drizzle coming down from the sky. He was already soaked to the bone as it was. He looked back upstream, questioning.

"He said he'd find me, but he probably didn't think I'd come this far downstream," Ren mused. "Would it be better to follow the stream back to the waterfall, or try to cut back to the cave from here?"

Probably the former. He was pretty sure he could find the cave from the waterfall by retracing his steps, but if he cut through he could pass it without realizing it. Jaune might find him in time regardless, but it'd take a damn time longer and Jaune would be in a much fouler mood if he had to come as far as Ren had gone before finding where Ren had turned back.

That… could be troublesome. Ren had been willing to trust Jaune wouldn't get in trouble, but Jaune hadn't exactly trusted the same, or else he would have let Ren come with him. Jaune had probably expected him to stay in the cave, and if Ren wasn't back by the time Jaune returned…

Ren winced, even as Jaune's bow was slight comfort on his back. He'd been so focused on doing something productive, he hadn't thought what might happen if Jaune returned before he did.

"It's not like I promised to stay in the cave or anything," Ren rationalized aloud. "I can just say I needed to stretch my legs and took a look around. That's not technically a lie," he defended. "Besides, he should have any cause to complain when he sees his bow again. It's all good as long as I don't get into any trouble, right?"

Right?

Gods, is this what Team RWBY was like whenever they were off getting into their latest adventure?

Ren face-palmed.

"Now I'm talking to myself. That isn't exactly a good sign," Ren muttered. It hadn't even been a week either. Yet, who could blame him? Given his sort of friends, he was used to a bit more… volume in his environment. As it was, the absence of anyone to talk to was…

How did Jaune put up with the deafening silence all the time?

Never mind. Ren shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track.

"It's no good thinking about it. I need to move on." If he beat Jaune back to the cave, all was well. If he didn't, he'd explain himself and use a little of his semblance to ensure Jaune didn't get out of sorts. As long as he didn't get into trouble along the way, Jaune wouldn't have cause to complain… and would even have to drop that annoying nickname.

That would be something to look forward to.

"If he tries to back out of that, I'll make him eat his bow," Ren vowed.

Alone once more, he set out east.

/-/

Halfway back without a single encounter – good or bad- made him nervous. There being no sign of Jaune looking for him was good in one way, and bad in a lot of others that all had 'Grimm' in common. Either he had suffered a bad case of tunnel vision when he'd been focusing on the creek on his way downstream, or there had been whole packs of Grimm closer than he thought.

When he'd been going downstream, he'd heard the Beowolf because he'd been focused on the creek. Coming back, though, and trying to conceal himself in the thicker underbrush… broken brush, split logs, and paths through the undergrowth were so obvious even he could read them. A lot of it was recent too- though whether before or after his and Jaune's little swim was unclear. Like an Ursa in a pottery store, the Grimm had made a mess of the forest they claimed as their own the moment they'd been driven into a frenzy. It seemed to show that even out here where humanity held no sway, the Grimm were still destructive, if only to nature instead.

Ren sighed and took a deep breath. Fatigue had started to kick in a while back, but he'd forced himself on and on. Jaune's bow wasn't heavy, just a little uncomfortable, but even without the water weight it made him wonder about his absent companion once more. He'd thought Jaune's pace was hard when he'd just been carrying his tote bag. Carrying the bow, and not even having to worry about Jaune's much larger pack… he hadn't wanted to take a break before he returned, but enough was enough.

Ren pulled off the bow and his own bag and set them down by a log before sitting down himself as he fished around his bag for a water canteen. Odd to be so thirsty after falling in a river, but the monsoon's humidity was doing him no favours even if the rainclouds kept the any blazing summer sun away. Ren found his canteen and swallowed greedily from the flask, before wiping his lips clean with the back of one hand. His thirst satiated for the moment, he took time to take in the sort of forest he hadn't seen since his early childhood.

There were no still ponds or floating flowers, but there was a strange peace to the forest… at least when the Grimm weren't around. It looked much the same as his first days stranded, except back then he'd been fighting the fear of being stranded. His Semblance helped suppress it, and the survival manual had helped rationalize the need to wait, but he'd known it was there by the way he'd limped to the closest hillside he could. He'd holed up in his cave and simply tried to survive.

Looking back, he had to wonder if that had been the wrong choice. It was what the survival manual told him to do, but he'd made more distance in the last two hours here than he had in the first seventy-two. Sure, he hadn't had as clear a destination, but waiting for death – or rescue – had been exhausting in its own right. Maybe what they said was right, about how doing nothing when someone needed help was the antithesis of being a true Hunter. Even if the person needing help was himself, he still could have done something to keep his mind focused. Just moving his beacon regularly would have shown everyone he was still alive.

Or, he supposed, it was also possible he'd have run into Mouk.

The cries of some distant birds interrupted his thoughts. He watched through a crack in the canopy as several dark shapes flew overhead. They weren't Grimm, at least judging by the sounds, but they'd been spooked by something.

He had a feeling it wasn't Jaune. Something told him the ornery hunter wouldn't be causing that much of a ruckus out here in the open.

"Time to go," he said, sweeping up his bag with ease. He looked at the bow a moment longer, though. It was… uncomfortable and had been a distraction. Jaune had had it out and extended almost the entire time they'd been walking, alert and on guard in the Grimmlands, but if he remembered right…

Maybe if it worked like it's sister weapon…

Ren knelt down to grasp the bow and worked his hands up and down around the shaft as he searched for release. With a grunt he found it, and with a hiss the bow shaft relaxed and compressed, shortening until it could be folded over and fit into his pants.

Like other pieces of Arc family junk, it was easier to carry that way.

His burden eased, Ren looked around to ensure he was still on the straight path. A quick check for the river ensured he was still hand railing it back upstream, even though he was far enough away that no Grimm at it would see him. By the angle of the afternoon sun, the stream was to his west. To the east, somewhere, was the cave he was trying to return to. He couldn't see it now, but over the ridge it was based at he could see the even larger mountain range far beyond. The Lunar Cry Mountains…

Ren wondered how close they'd be by the time they actually escaped Mouk's domain. They were likely only days away, but by how the last few days had gone it felt like weeks.

A sound somewhere south of him made Ren remember that he needed to move. He walked north again, keeping an eye out for the signs that should lead him back to the cave.

Minutes later- or maybe a half hour- he began to get nervous. The trail, and the waterfall, were nowhere to be seen.

The waterfall was supposed to be his landmark. It'd definitely been where he'd started going downstream. Where was it? He didn't exactly have clock to check, his own scroll having died long ago, but surely he'd already walked back upstream as long as he'd walked downstream to find the bag. And he wasn't meticulously looking for anything washed ashore either. That should mean he was walking faster now, right?

Had he walked past it without realizing? Been too far east of the stream, moving through the thicker forest so he wouldn't be seen, and not seen the waterfall in turn? Was he now upstream of where he'd started, having walked faster since he grabbed the bags? Or was he still short of his destination, and slowed down by the bags weight or the slight slope of going uphill?

Was he… lost?

In that moment, Ren was wracked with indecision even as he let out a muffled curse. A step forward, to continue his path, faltered along with his resolve. Turning around to go back was met with hesitation. Keep moving forward, or go back? Upstream, or downstream? Suddenly the fact that he'd recovered Jaune's ruck meant little. Even if he dug out Jaune's maps, he wouldn't know where 'here' was. He knew he was near the same river, but not which stream it was on the map. Or where the cave was. Or which valley they were in. Would a six-foot waterfall even be labelled on a map?

Ren's heart began racing, even as he fought to keep his breathing even. It was still the same stream. He could just go back down to a point he'd know he recognize, and then start upstream again from then. That should work, right? Even if he couldn't remember any particularly unique parts of the flood-stream besides the waterfall itself. Worst come to worst, Jaune would find him as long as he stayed near the river, right?

But if that were true, why hadn't Jaune found him already? Was Jaune's journey longer? Had he been slowed by the Grimm? Was he himself still looking for the bag Ren already had?

What was taking Jaune so long? Why hadn't he caught up yet? What was he doing? Had he left too vague a path? The questions warred in his mind and `trust` became ever harder to maintain. What if Jaune had been driven away? What if he couldn't find the cave either? What if he'd already returned to the cave, but gone out searching for Ren but missed him in the underbrush?

What if what if what if?

 _There has to be a way,_ Ren thought, fighting for control. _Some way to get my bearing. If I could just get my bearings and figure out where the waterfall was…_

Ren's gaze drifted east, to the next ridgeline of this little valley. It was slick and steep and nothing but stone, but it was high enough to clearly see over the valley…

 _Nothing should sense me if I keep my semblance up,_ he thought. His eyes burned, and his vision swam a little from having maintained it for so long without pause, but he could still go on. _Just a peek above the treeline,_ he thought. _If I see even a hint of Mouk, I'll get back down and just go back down the river._

A particularly strong-looking tree provided a good means to climb higher, the boughs just low enough for him to reach. Normally such a thing wouldn't have caused him any trouble, but exhaustion, not to mention the lack of food, had robbed him of his normal strength reserves. _Conserve what strength I can,_ he thought. _You never know when you'll need that energy next._ That was what Jaune would say as he stepped around rather than forced his way through obstacles. It took less time to find an easy tree than it did energy to scramble up a harder one.

He tested the ground a few times before he hopped up, catching a bough with both hands. He hung there for a second, just to make sure it would hold, before he pulled himself up when the branch didn't crack or splinter. His feet landed atop it and he shimmied over to the trunk, wrapping one arm around it to steady himself. It still wasn't enough for him to break the canopy, that thick layer of green that smothered out most of the sunlight. He made his way higher instead, testing each branch with a foot before he dared put any more weight on it.

He didn't make it to the top. One hand gripping a branch and the other holding the trunk, he stepped around to reach for a bough with one foot and found himself staring into a pair of red eyes and a beak.

The Nevermore looked as surprised as he – and it was a small thing barely a foot across with its wings extended. There were two others as well on branches behind and they all stared at him, he staring back. With his hands in use he couldn't reach for his weapon.

"Don't make a sound," he pleaded.

The juvenile Nevermore flapped their wings wildly.

"Caww!"

"Caw!"

The moment the Grimm pushed off and flew through the trees he knew he'd made a grave mistake. Mouk's roar split the forest some distance away, and the ground began to vibrate with the force of his approach. He'd let his guard down. Damn it!

A scan of the surroundings provided nothing in the way of cover. If he tried to lay low and hide with his semblance out of sight of the Grimm, then there was a chance Mouk would crush him, even if he didn't see him. One foot slid back down the tree as Ren looked in the direction of the noise, watching the very trees themselves shake. There could be no more waiting, though at least Jaune would have a clear path to follow.

With a lurch, Ren threw himself out of the tree, jumped off the next, and within moments was already atop the eastern ridge before the Nevermore above circled back. He only went fast as gravity helped him accelerate down the other side of the hill.

He reached the trees at a mad dash, leaped over a fallen log and pushed through bushes with reckless abandon. The only hope was to find somewhere to hide. This ridgeline was out, what with the Nevermore seeing down the slope, but if he hurried through the trees he could lose them. If he could build distance from where he'd been spotted then that might be enough, just like last time. Mouk would need to look around or wait for another Grimm to spot him and relay the message. As much as it hurt to say, Ren would have to hope Jaune could follow the trail and find him later. At the moment, there was nothing else he could do. Survival came first.

Ren's pace, unnatural by the standards of a regular person, wasn't quite a terrified sprint, but the full speed of an amateur Huntsman. That didn't keep his eyes from widening in in shock when he looked behind him when the sun seemed to dim, however. Hidden behind the clouds as it was, the sky still seemed darker- and the reason why filled him with real dread.

In that moment, Mouk was jumping off the ridgeline much as he had, and about to crash into the forest below with all the power of a meteor. The roar was almost as powerful

Ren just barely kept on his feet when the ground beneath him shook, though his hands touched the ground at one point trying to keep him. This time his legs were moving with the power of fear, but they didn't give any advantage. Far from it, as Ren never even noticed his semblance slip away from him.

Why would he? Mouk was gaining on him. The beast's stride was too large, and the uneven terrain hardly bothered it, while branches tugged and snagged at Ren's clothing and gnarled roots seemed to tangle about his feet. Every time some tree branch or vine tripped him, he powered through and kept moving even as he stumbled. Nothing slowed Mouk down, though, and when Ren had to leap over another stream in the middle of this valley, Mouk didn't even get its paw wet.

Ren reached the far side of the valley and the next valley ridge-wall the moment Mouk reached him. There was no time to hide after he cleared the tree line. A steep rock face faced him, a wall of wet stone and tangled roots – but before he could even consider climbing, the forest behind him exploded. Mouk's huge foot powered down, splintering trees beneath it and causing the ground to shatter.

Ren was thrown forward by the force of it, and barely had the presence of mind to angle his arms to take the force of the fall as he _slammed_ into the valley wall, and right through a crevice into an interior cave.

A rock stopped him - or tried to. He bounced off it, aura flaring, and a gasp thrown from his lips. He landed face-down on the stone floor, but there was no time to savour it. His hands slammed down even as Mouk roared. A brief glance back told him everything he needed to know.

Mouk's single eye bore directly into his, straight through the narrow opening of the cave mouth.

The eye disappeared, but this was no cause for relief. In a matter of moments the black mass outside rose, and then _fell_ so hard that when it landed the ground bucked and Ren was thrown up into the air, hitting his head on the roof of the shallow cave. He twisted and tried to land on his feet on the way down, gasping in pain as his ankle twisted on the uneven ground. He sagged, and caught himself, and then limped deeper into the cave. There was no light, and he had no clue of how deep it went, but there was no other path to salvation.

Mouk wasn't inclined to give him even that, as a massive paw bigger than him crashed through the cave mouth and caught him from behind.

"Arghh!" Ren screamed as the claw caught his leg from behind, tearing through his aura and hitting between his knee to ankle. A few feet up and that would have torn through his bag with ease. As it was it was a glancing blow at best it didn't cut, but from something of Mouk's size even that was enough to crush his aura. The force of it sent him the rest of the way and he slammed against the back of the cave wall, slumping to its base. The only mercy was that his bag cushioned much of the impact, it's soaked contents compressing easier than his bones. One hand clamped down on his wound, even as his head swam too much to even grasp at the edges of his semblance. The fact that his aura was likely too low to use it mattered little since Mouk knew exactly where he was.

And worse, the cave was not all that deep. It was barely six meters at most, and as Mouk's claws grasped at the entrance, tearing up dirt and rock, Ren pressed himself up against the back wall as best he could considering the bag, arms pushing him further back as he tried to make as little noise as possible. Despite that his chest rose and fell in harsh pants.

Mouk snorted and snuffled. Its snout poked at the entrance but it couldn't fit in, much to his relief. A red-eyed glare was almost welcome in its displeasure. Less so was how it growled and pulled back – and two claws appeared after, teasing around the cave in search of him.

Ren held his breath – and even tried to stop his heart from beating. The claws were gargantuan and reaching for him. They wavered a scant few feet from him. It couldn't get any further, however. The cave was just deep enough.

But only for now. A Grimm's Mouk size and age didn't get that way without having at least some intellect. It roared angrily, and dust rained down on Ren's head. The claws came back, but not to search for him this time. They scraped and shovelled at the entrance – and Ren's eyes widened as he saw swathes or rock being dragged away.

It was trying to dig open entrance, so it could get in deeper!

If it did that, he was dead. No doubts. He couldn't escape, either. The moment he tried it would kill him, and his leg was hardly good enough to stand on, let alone run.

 _Calm down. I mustn't be afraid. Nothing's going to work if I'm afraid._

Gods, but he was afraid. He hadn't been this afraid since-

No. Even then, there'd been a way. There was always a solution to every problem – so long as you knew the variables and had the right tools. Mouk was something he'd never faced before this week, but all Grimm had weaknesses. He wracked his mind for this one's. Was there something from the legends? Anything he might use?

Ren's hand frantically thrust inside his bag, trying to find anything amongst the clothes that might be of use, even as Mouk's red eye once again lowered to look into the cave.

There was a way.

The Ren who had spent most of his life in the city of Mistral, and recently in Vale, was dismissive. Legends and folklore from frontier folk weren't going to be strictly true or historically accurate, and so were usually only worth their weight in gold. The Ren that had no options and was desperate disagreed. Something didn't have to be true to be useful.

Jaune was no idiot and had filled the silence on their long trek with a few more tales of the monster outside, including the one of a hunter in a very similar situation to his right now. Huntsmen and Huntresses had tried to kill Mouk and died, but a hunter had gotten away not because he'd tried to win, but because he'd fought to _survive_.

And the proof of his victory had been…

Ren's pack was full as he pushed his hand into it, one eye on the entrance in case Mouk tried to reach for him once more. It did, its claw reaching further than ever, but not far enough. Clothing and supplies were shoved around as he searched for the one thing that could help him. Mouk's paw remained in the cave, and there was a mighty crash as a titanic mass came down. It was trying to look inside the cave again, only this time with a paw still in the widened opening.

Ren's fingers found a slim, plastic object wrapped in a water-proof wax-seal. Wordlessly, he tore it free, and then ripped the cap off with his teeth. Hot air washed over him as Mouk's snout appeared – and then his giant, crimson, eye. It locked onto him with deadly intent.

And then it widened, in obvious alarm, when Ren snapped the flare in two and dark black smoke followed bright red fire.

The eye would cringe when the first smoke hit it, but that wasn't what made it cry, or made the beast roar in something less than pain but certainly not anger. No, that was when Ren swiped the flare like a knife and lit the furthest of Mouk's hairs on fire.

The deafening squeal that followed was anything but intimidating. The way the mega-Ursa tried to rear away - would have left completely were it not for the paw now stuck in the cave - only drew attention to how fast Mouk removed its face from the cave mouth.

Desperate, vindictive glee spread across Ren's face.

"You're scared of fire, huh?" he yelled, even though there was no chance Mouk could actually hear or understand him. "Then let's see how you like this!"

With a Huntsman's precision, Ren threw the flare behind Mouk's claws, trapping the fire-starting pyrotechnic beneath Mouk's paw.

Mouk reared back with a ferocious cross between a roar and a squeal, titanic muscles trying to yank the paw free and away from the source of the inflammatory pain. When it did, it nearly tore half the cave out with it, an explosion of force that sent the mega-Ursa so far back that it actually wobbled on its back two legs for balance. For once, Mouk's attention was far from Ren, and entirely on the flames licking its paw.

"It worked!" Ren half-laughed, half-shouted, even though the encounter wasn't over yet. Still… it worked! Just like the legend with the hunter, who blinded Mouk's other eye with smoke and fire. Now, like that hunter of old, Ren would have to make his escape too- before any of Mouk's retinue could find and follow.

But before Ren could move for the entrance and escape into the woods, Mouk fell from his two-legged hobble and slammed both paws to the ground outside the mouth of the cave.

It didn't seem to be a planned move to stop him so much as part of the beast's frantic thrashing or attempt to put out the fire, but the air pressure blew him back. The paws were gone a second later as Mouk bucked – but something, a part of the mountain itself, gave way. There was a mighty crack and a groan, and the very ground beneath him rumbled and shook. Ren was sent sprawling back, rolling to the back end of the cave.

The mad thing was causing a quake! Its throes of agony were going to bring the entire mountain ridge down on his head, and without the stupid thing even realising! Dust and splinters of rock already rained down on him. Ren threw a hand out to grasp a rock and drag himself forward, the shaking too much for him to find his footing on his bad leg. As another particularly violent shake hit the mountain, something beneath him groaned ominously.

Ren looked beneath himself, suddenly aware of a fissure that had opened up between his hands, running the length of the cave. His eyes widened. Had he been in his right mind, less injured, not stunned, and perhaps a thousand other things, he might have had the strength to escape. As it was, he stared down at the fissure as it splintered.

"Oh, come _on_ …"

It gave way with a mighty crack.

The ground beneath him disappeared. The sudden moment of weightlessness ended as he plummeted down, spinning and twirling as he tried to correct himself and land on his feet. His eyes saw the open cave he was falling into – some kind of subterranean cave – but that was thrown aside as something caught his head from behind.

Another rock fell from above, and his balance was shot as he tumbled down.

The only silver linings were that Mouk was far above and ground below looked more wet than solid, and then the world went black.

/-/

Far, far away, in the little town called Edge, a miserable ginger-haired girl groaned in her sleep.

"Ren," she cried. "Ren! It's dark! Don't go!" she pleaded. "There are monsters in the dark! Don't leave me!"

Beside her, two girls traded worried looks as another looked closer.

"She's having another nightmare," a brunette bunny-eared girl, the very girl leaning over, said. "She's been having a lot lately. The suppressants don't keep away the dreams, or… other things."

The other two witnesses traded more concerned looks.

"Maybe… maybe we should wake her up," one said, blonde hair visible in the dim light.

"No, don't," the other disagreed, her red ponytail shaking. "The Doctor said she needed to rest, and besides, if she sees you again-"

There was a pause, but then the blonde shook her head.

"I'll deal with that," she said. "I'll take responsibility, like I should have in the first place. That's my job, right?" she asked, voice cracking.

Neither other witness said anything. Red-hair could only extend a hand in support as Blonde looked down as the Ginger-haired girl who was twisted and turning in misery.

"Besides… I can't just sit here and do nothing seeing her like this," Blonde admitted. "No one should have to deal with their nightmares alone." A fist curled, and voice strained. "No one."

Cerulean conviction shined in her eyes.

"Wake her up."

The other two nodded, and the closest one leaned forward, putting a hand on the unconscious girl's shoulder as gently as possible.

"Wake up," a gentle voice urged. "We're here for you. Wake-"

/-/

"-up."

Something shook him. There were hands on his shoulders and they pushed again.

"Get up, you idiot! Don't be doing this to me now!"

"N-Nora…?"

"Who?"

The caustic voice wasn't quite feminine enough, nor excitable or even remotely happy enough to be his partner's. Memory didn't so much flood back into his mind as it did babble and spill across his brain, sending waves of pain through a skull that felt cracked in a million places. He groaned and tried to reach up for it but a hand caught his before he could.

"Steady," the voice said. "You took a real knock there. Here, drink this."

Something was pressed against his lips and as the cool sensation of fresh water touched them he opened his mouth and swallowed. The refreshment was enough to bring the world back into focus, slowly at first and then with increasing clarity. His eyes slowly opened to reveal a dirty and tired figure crouched next to him, one arm under his shoulders to prop him up, the other holding a canteen to his lips. Having had his fill, Ren pushed it weakly away.

"I'm alive, then?"

"No, you idiot, you're dead and I'm here to haunt you."

"That explains a lot," Ren quipped, words slipping out before he realized it. "Maybe I never made it off the bullhead."

Jaune dropped his shoulders, though made sure to keep his head from hitting the ground and took the canteen away in a huff. "If you're good enough to crack jokes, maybe you didn't' crack your head after all. Good. I'm not letting you die until after I see the looks on your friends' faces when I drag you back."

Ren's laugh was more of a weak cough. Was there any concern for him there? It was honestly hard to tell sometimes.

"I see you're in one piece too, unless you died and I'm haunting you," Ren managed, lying down and looking straight up.

"I'm not _that_ bad," Jaune muttered, even as he busied himself to the side. Turning his head, Ren could see him working on his bag, which itself was set up beside a body of water. Unground lake? Just a pool? Jaune must have found and dragged him to it.

They were in a cave, that was clear. He could see the roof, which was weird because that meant there must have been light. From above? Around a bend, there might have been the evidence of such. There was certainly the sound of water.

"I see you found your bag," Ren rasped, mouth still waking up. The water Jaune have given him was good, but for some reason the rest of mouth felt… salty?

"Yeah. It was upstream. Imagine my surprise when it was right where I left it before you threw me in." He looked back, and this time Ren could feel the tart glare being thrown his way. "Also imagine my surprise when I came back and found that you weren't where _I_ left _you_. What the heck were you doing?"

The disapproval was obvious. Ren ignored it.

"How did you find me?"

"The mountain-sized bear running around with its paw on fire was a clue. So was the crater in the middle of the hillside. Luckily, I found a hole instead of a smear of blood and huntsman, and you were at the bottom. Easy. At least you were floating face-up," he said.

Yeah. Easy. And Ren was a mythical faunus. Still…

"Swimming's not hard. Some of us can do it in our sleep."

Jaune's brow wrinkled. "Now you're trying to piss me off," he recognized, before narrowing his eyes further at a realization. "And distract me. Won't work. What the heck did you do to get Mouk to level a mountain?" he demanded.

"I remembered your story about the hunter and re-enacted a bit of it with a flare."

Jaune blinked.

"That worked?"

Well, this was awkward. Almost surreal, really.

"Yeah. Turns out he's afraid of fire. Who knew?"

Jaune should have. Then again, Jaune hadn't _said_ Mouk was afraid of fire per see, just that the hunter used it to blind Mouk. Was that what he'd intended? But then, why did Mouk care about fire specifically? In the legend…

A thought crossed Ren's mind.

Jaune had shared that the 'trick' to distract Mouk had once been to set diversionary fires elsewhere. Had that stopped working not because Mouk was smart, but…

Had Mouk grown afraid of fire just by poking its nose one time too many in a fire pit? No hunter, or anything else?

 _That's what you get for believing in legends,_ the city-civilized part of himself sang.

"That's… good to know," Jaune said, looking at Ren seriously and without anger for a moment. "I knew he was sensitive about his last eye, but this… when we get out of here, we need to spread the word," he said, deadly serious.

"I'll be sure to write it down," Ren said, even as he finally pulled himself up from laying on his back to a sitting position. His head swam, but it was worth it as his senses came back.

Jaune's sudden frown wasn't, though.

"Of course you would," he snapped, suddenly turning back to ire. "If you don't get yourself killed first. What were you even doing out to be found by him in the first place? You had one job, to not get in trouble, and I told you to stay put!"

"Technically, you didn't," Ren said, having expected this. "You just said you'd find me. Which you clearly did."

Jaune frowned more. That was… true. He visibly reigned in his mood, at least for the moment.

"Then why?"

"I had to stretch my legs and look for something."

The moment didn't last long, clearly.

"That's it? What could be worth so much that you'd risk running across Mouk? You know what? Never mind. I don't care what it, whatever it was wouldn't be worth your life and-"

"Did you find your bow?" Ren asked, reaching down to pat his pockets.

"No," Jaune admitted, grudging and unhappiness clear. "But that has nothing to do with-"

Ren pulled out the compressed, folded-down version of Jaune's bow from his pocket. "You went upstream to check if it was still there. I went downstream to see if it washed away. I was right," he added, almost as an afterthought, before extending his hand to Jaune. "Here."

Jaune slowly reached out to take it, and his hands visibly shook as he took it.

"I- you shouldn't have," Jaune rejected, even as he took firm hold of it. He at least tried to keep consistent. "It wouldn't have been worth-"

"A Hunter's weapon is their life," Ren said simply. "So yes. It was."

Weapons weren't mere pieces of equipment to be discarded or exchanged, but a part of someone, and their identity. Ren's Stormflower represented memories as much as a means to protect. Jaune's bow was his method, and his way of life. Even Crocea Mors, a shield to protect and a means to fight for one's dreams…

"Is that what they teach you at Beacon?" Jaune asked, voice tight.

Ren closed his eyes. "No. My father taught me that."

There was no rebuttal to that, and Jaune seemed to accept that. Even if Ren's decisions were… questionable, that didn't mean the overall choice was indefensibly wrong. Jaune himself had said how much the bow mattered. Ren had made a call, and it… mostly worked out.

"If it helps, I didn't even run into Mouk when I got it. I only stumbled into a Grimm when I got lost on my way back." He paused, and hoped he was convincing. "It was bad luck, that's all."

"Ha," Jaune breathed, and for once it seemed almost sincere. "Ain't that the truth?" The hunter's lips thinned. "Here, then. I guess you'll want this back then. Seemed to keep me lucky - I never even saw a Beowolf," he said, handing back Ren's other Stormflower.

But he held onto a moment longer when Ren reached to accept it.

"And… thanks, you idiot Huntsman."

Ren sighed. "I thought you said you were going to stop calling me that."

"And I thought you were going to stay out of trouble for more than five minutes! Instead I come back and find an empty cave with Mouk running right by and-"

Ren tuned out Jaune's squawking about how much of an idiot he'd presumably been and just what the other guy must have thought during all this and looked around the area. They were in a cave system, that much was clear, and the reflecting light gave at least some interior lighting. It wasn't bright, but it was soft, and the walls almost seemed to… glow? It wasn't just the sunlight filtering in- there was something else, something glinting in the soft white walls.

"Jaune?" he asked, cutting Jaune off even as he shakily stood on his feet again. His leg ached, but there was something calling him. It was like… wind…

"Yeah?" Jaune said, shifting beats as fast as ever. Sometimes that was annoying, like walking into a prickly thorn bush. Other times it meant no nonsense what so ever.

"Where are we?"

"Welcome to the caves of the Lunar Cry mountains."

"You know this place?"

"Nope."

"But you just said-"

"It's a cave, and it's in the mountains," Jaune pointed out. "Past that, what do you expect? I stick to walking above the ground, not below. I hate caves," he said. "Nothing worse than a Grimm between you and the exit."

That was something, but not what Ren was hoping for. Now that he was listening for it, he could tell what he'd barely heard before. He could feel it. He'd never experienced it before- only read it- but it was unmistakable.

There was wind. A breeze, really. And not just from the hole in the ceiling a way away. Something like that meant…

"You're not getting light-headed on me, are you?" Jaune said, popping into his field of vision again. "If you need to rest a little-"

Ren had barely realized he'd been walking, and Jaune was looking at him with careful concern even as Ren turned one corner and then another. But that wasn't important, because the wind was getting louder, because-

Ren focused on the path ahead as they reached what appeared to be the end of the tunnel. The ground spread down before them and the walls opened wide – even as the ceiling vanished far above. Far from finding a smaller cave, it looked like they'd managed to find an even bigger one.

"Jaune, you sure you've never been here before?" Ren asked, stopping.

"Never," Jaune denied, eyes widening. "I'd never forget this."

Crumbling stone and piles of rubble, not to mention all of the edges and straight lines that could not have been made by nature, morphed into square-shaped structures of a clearly human-construction. Above them, across the cavernous ceiling, carefully placed glittering jewels shined like a subterranean constellation, giving the cavern a soft lit glow.

"I don't believe it," Jaune whispered.

Ren didn't blame him. He couldn't either.

"It's an underground city."

* * *

 **CF's Notes**

* * *

 **Dun dun dunn!**

 **An end to a chapter that was… surprisingly difficult to put together in so short time, since we only had 3 days to do so. Real life time crunches have a way of doing that. But I think Coeur did some nice action, and I slipped in some comedy (and the dirty joke), and all in 8k words? It's a miracle.**

 **But, hey, something new. But what does it mean for the future? Speculation ahoy.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 3rd February**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	11. Chapter 11

**General Notes: Low and behold, a chapter Coeur wrote that I didn't want huge massive changes to!**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

* * *

The huge cave-like city spread out before them and continued onward until it was swallowed by shadow. There was no telling how large it was thanks to the limited light, but what little illumination came from Jaune's torch shone on walls half-carved from the stone walls and reinforced with brick and clay. They were simple dwellings but dwellings nonetheless, and in a place that neither of them had expected.

"This is incredible," Ren said. "Did you know about this?"

Jaune shook his head, as surprised as his companion. "No way. I've been through this area before but never underground."

"And your legends don't tell of some place like this?"

"Nothing I ever would have believed…." Jaune cast his torch from side to side, revealing narrow alleyways that might have made up the streets and roads of the abandoned city. "I guess this means we're on the right track, though. You wouldn't have an underground place to live without a route back up to the surface."

Ren's expression lit up as he considered that. There was always the chance it was sealed – and that it might be the reason why this city fell, but it could also have just as easily been a case of these people moving away or dying out for any other reason. The air already had a hint of freshness to it, so there had to be some way out.

"Come on," Jaune said, hefting Ren up so that he could rest his injured leg once more. "We need to make camp anyway. Might as well use one of these hovels."

They made their way slowly through the narrow streets, Jaune keeping a cautious pace even if Ren hadn't slowed him down. The ground was too treacherous for them to be hasty and the dark hardly helped. Once upon a time it might have been flat and even, and the occasional expanse of it suggested so, but time, wear, and the ever-encroaching damp had worn away at the rock, leaving perilous potholes and crevasses that could easily break or twist an unwary ankle.

The city also wasn't quite as large as Ren first thought, and couldn't really be called a city at all, at least by today's standards. There was less than a hundred or so houses, all told, and while there was no telling how many might be crammed into each, it seemed unlikely that there could have been more than five or six hundred. If this place was as old as it looked then perhaps that was enough to make it a city.

"This place looks sound enough," Jaune said, pausing before a rather small and cosy stone building set away from the cave wall. "A little cramped, and the walls have crumbled on one side, but the roof seems solid and it's away from the wall."

"Is there a reason we should be away from it?"

Jaune shot him a look that seemed to ask whether that was a challenge, but when Ren simply looked curious the blonde relented. "It's just to avoid creepy-crawlies," he said. "Dark caves like this can hold some pretty unfortunate pests. If we set a fire in here tonight it'll ward off any others, and we'll block off the entrance." He grinned at Ren. "Make sure to check your bedroll before you climb in, though."

"That's not funny."

"It will be if you don't."

The interior of the building was as simple as the exterior, little more than a square space with four raised platforms that might once have been beds around a shallow pit in the centre. There was a hole in the roof, and an intentional one at that, even ignoring the other holes and cracks that had formed. It was directly over the fire put and must have been an ancient form of chimney.

"Will it be safe to light a fire in here? Even if the smoke goes out of his hole, where would it go?"

"Somewhere," Jaune said, already pulling some twigs and logs out of his pack and tossing them in the pit. "I doubt these guys managed to build all of this while dying of smoke, so there must be some kind of ventilation. Who knows, we might be able to follow the smoke to find our way out tomorrow."

Tomorrow was a wild guess, of course. Neither of them had any idea what time it was, and it wouldn't have mattered either way. He needed to rest his leg and ankle, and Jaune must have been just as exhausted, if not more. He'd run from the first cave, almost drowned in a river, trekked back up it, then crept through the forest to clamber down into this cave system. Ren couldn't complain about an awkward fall if the hunter wasn't complaining about all that.

Then again, Ren felt so tired he'd barely complain about anything, even Jaune's cooking. Even wet clothes no longer bothered him, fading from his mind as his senses dulled and he just watched Jaune start the fire. There wasn't much wood left, but there were some exposed roots nearby that looked burnable enough.

The fire crackled to life without much difficulty in the still air. The light from it far eclipsed Jaune's little torch and he cut it off to preserve the battery. As they both set out their blankets over the bare rock beds and sat upon them, Jaune reached inside his pouch before looking up at Ren.

"You said you could cook, right?"

Ren came to and nodded. "If I have the tools to work with," he said. "Can't do much with nothing," he warned.

"We still have some left-over rabbit, but I found this back up river. Thought you might be able to use it."

Jaune withdrew a small pouch and tossed it to Ren. It looked old and worn, and with plenty of stitches to suggest constant repair. Ren had the feeling it was a gift. When he pulled it open and shook, a few samples of thyme fell out.

"Can you do anything with it?" Jaune asked, watching him.

"A bit," Ren said. Not much, with a lack of kitchen utensils, but a bit. Honestly, just not over-cooking the meat would do more, but better was better.

Then he noticed something else still in the bad- something hard. Carefully Ren shook it loose, and was surprised to see a small, slender, but no doubt robust little tube. It was filled with an angry red substance just shy of powder that…

"Are these… dust flakes?"

"It was a gift," Jaune said gruffly, poking the fire. "There enough?"

And suddenly Ren had an immediate understanding of just why Jaune's cooking might have been tantamount to poison, especially if he looked at a vial of such potent spice and thought those might not be enough for a single meal.

"There's more than enough," Ren said, and that was understating it. "I'm just surprised. Even if it's safe in small amounts, given its value and the difficulty to chip most people don't waste raw dust anymore. Dust cooking is something of a lost art, and the only person I've ever known of who did so-"

The fire crackled and hissed loudly as Jaune threw an extra root onto it, the flames roaring a little higher and cutting Ren off. He caught the look on Jaune's face and changed the subject.

"Never mind. Do you have the rabbit?"

"Here. Might have gotten a bit damp from the rain, but unlike me it never got thrown in the river."

"I roast it out. It might take an awhile, but we're stuck here anyway." He trailed off, waiting to see whether Jaune would agree or not. The hunter nodded.

"Might as well. I need to stretch and take a leak. Will you still be here when I come back?"

Ren didn't draw attention to his leg. "I won't be going anywhere like this."

"See, that's what I thought earlier, and next thing I knew Mouk was trying to rut you into mountainside." Ren wasn't sure how to respond, but the other boy's frown seemed more affected than annoyed.

"Do your best," Jaune said, before stepping out. "You owe me a meal and I'll be damned if you're going to welch on it."

/-/

It took an hour for the rabbit to re-cook the way Ren wanted it, a meagre roast over the small fire. After wetting it and washing his hands with (hopefully clean) water Jaune drew, he rubbed in the thyme leaves as best he could before steadying himself. With great care, he took one of the flakes of red dust and broke it in his palm.

Fire dust, of course. But the flake was so small- so thin- that it lacked any explosive force. Instead of burning outright it seemed to simmer- warming Ren's hand in a welcome way. Nodding to himself, Ren took individual flakes and rubbed them into and over the bits of rabbit, one flake per portion. Taking the strips of meat of meat off the fire, he then folded them over the flakes to break them and left them beside the fire.

A sharp hiss occurred as the flakes broke and released their energy, and if he remembered right Ren's work was done. It'd take a while for the flakes to release all their energy into the meat, but when they did the rabbit would be more than roasted- it would be speckled with fire dust, promising to keep it warmer than it otherwise would have been. Dust cooking was an old tradition with many an old wives' tale, but supposedly a pinch of fire in the flesh would energize boost the eater's energy and protect them against flames. Then again, if he remembered his own childhood tales right, fire-eating savages from long ago had eaten enough raw fire dust to breath fire and burn down villages as well as Grimm. Probably neither would happen, but he should let the dust flake work its magic.

Until it was ready to serve, however, Ren took his time to better investigate the walls of their dwelling, and namely some odd carvings that he'd found above his bed. He brushed some more dust aside and squinted to make out the shapes on what was already a very worn and damaged stone surface. Once upon a time they might have been as clear as day, but it was all he could do to make out the faintest detail.

"I wish I could take some pictures of these. Doctor Oobleck would love to see them."

"Already planning for the future?" Jaune asked. He was laid flat on his 'bed,' feet crossed, and arms linked behind his head to use like a pillow. His usual acerbic tone was gone, swallowed up by the faint but mouth-watering smell of the dust-flake bake.

"Is that a bad thing? I doubt anyone in the Kingdoms has seen a place like this before. There are archaeologists who would give their own eyes to see this."

"They might have to if they wanted to come here. Though I imagine Mouk would take more if he got the chance."

Ren sighed and rolled his eyes at the ornery hunter. "Must you suck out the joy in everything? We could be standing in a ruin no others have seen for a thousand or more years. There's no telling what treasure might be hidden here."

"Considering everything is made of stone, I doubt it."

"Wouldn't a discovery like this be good for Edge?"

"Doubt it," Jaune said, staying down. "Stuff like this might draw interest, but can you imagine how much it'd cost to come here? Even without Mouk? It's not like finding a new dust node. Those can be mined for years, so SDC might be willing to put a lot of lien into securing the best ones. This? It'd be a curiosity but give it a year and all your archaeologists would be done with it." He snorted. "Or dead."

"You must be a hit at parties."

Surprisingly, Jaune didn't snap back. His response was simply dull, even as he still stared at the ceiling.

"People only go out of their way to help others when there's something in it for them. SDC fights for dust. Huntsmen fight for lien. No one fights for lost cities or abandoned ruins." He shifted, but because of his arms Ren couldn't see his face. "They _never_ care about that sort of thing," he finished with an unmistakable bitterness.

"I suppose…" Ren conceded, not necessarily agreeing but not really disagreeing either. He thought about pointing out that Jaune came out here for him… but then, he didn't really know the other boy's reasons, and didn't feel up to fighting about it. Even he could feel the mood.

Jaune sighed, no doubt feeling it too. He rolled over, reached into his pack, and pulled something out. With a careless throw, something small and hard was tossed and slid in Ren's direction.

It was Jaune's scroll, broken and battered as it was.

"There," Jaune muttered, turning over to face the other way. "If you like your walls so much, take a picture with that. Scrolls can take pictures of things, right?"

"Does yours?" Ren asked, picking it up.

"Dunno. Never asked," Jaune said, rolling back on his side and facing the other way again.

"Thank you," Ren thanked. Jaune just grunted, talking done for now.

Jaune's sturdy scroll did photos, and even still worked despite the external damage. The survival scroll was sturdy, and despite the clear break of the broadcast antenna the rest of it was working well. On the front screen was an option clearly labelled 'Options,' and behind that 'camera.' With a flick of the finger the scroll was ready to record. At the very least, it gave him something to do while the meat absorbed the dust.

The carvings themselves seemed to paint a picture. There was no telling whether it was an ancient form of language, or even something before written words had been invented at all – a mural designed to depict a story by sketching it out.

"It seems to be a story about people fleeing some dark monster. I think it's the story of how _here_ came to be. They used to live outside before a Grimm forced them underground," Ren guessed, though it wasn't much of one.

Pictures showed humanoids in an open area, and then in an obvious cave as an ominous darkness followed. The darkness was more of a blob than a form, but the blob was as big as the mountain the cave was in while menacing claws and jaws jutted into the cave mouth after the people within. Far above a circular sphere watched it all, rays clawed away by the claws at the top of the Grimm blob.

"Wow, what a surprise. And here I thought they'd just gone underground for fun," Jaune said, sarcasm dripping from every word after he came out beside him. To Ren's horror he then took out a knife and began to hit the corner of one of the exposed reliefs Ren had just photographed.

"What are you doing!?"

"Chipping off some rock," Jaune answered easily.

"You're damaging the wall!"

"Well, yeah, it's made of the rock I need." He gave it another sharp tap and the wall cracked a little. "There we go," he said, peeling off a sizeable chunk of stone. Ren could just about see the marks of carvings on it.

" You just vandalised what could have been the find of the century. Do you have any idea how old that might be?"

"I've got a feeling saying `no` is going to lead to an annoying conversation," Jaune drawled. "As such I'll say I'm sorry, really. Believe me." The sarcasm was so thick not even Ruby could have missed it, and Ren glowered at the other as he sat back down inside and pulled out his empty quiver. "Stop scowling. The people here don't need it and I do. You realise we're fighting for our survival here, right?"

"I'm aware of that but I fail to see how a rock can help us."

"You're right. You fail to see." Jaune ignored him and moved his quiver in front of him. It was a bulky and mechanical thing and he lifted a strange compartment on the top, crumbling the stone as best he could and forcing it into the slot. There was a whirr and a click, and Jaune then took some of the sticks and wood not being burned and pushed those in as well. For good measure, he even took some strips of rabbit fur- the skin from their fears- and put it in too before closing it up. Soon the machine began to audibly vibrate.

Ren watched in slowly-dawning realisation. "That thing makes arrows?"

"It's a Portable Ammunition Fabricator Type Three," he said. "Or so a very energetic person told me. Materials go in, arrows come out." He popped open the bottom and showed Ren obvious round slots within. Already some of the wood inside was being… pressed into a proper shape. Ren suspected the stone fragments from before were being similarly processed. "Stone arrows only tonight. Sheesh, talk about being stuck in the dark ages, but it'll do until I can find something better."

Despite his flippancy, he frowned. "You know, stone arrows aren't really that bad- they're heavy enough to have a punch, even if they're weighed down a little and lose their range- but I don't know _what_ kind of stone is down here. Looks solid, but it'll suck if this breaks like sandstone."

Jaune was talking to himself, but Ren was just watching the fabricator-quiver. An ammunition fabricator… suddenly Jaune's strange quiver string made a bit more since. This was indisputably Huntsman tech right here, and nothing else but. It worked on a similar principle of mecha-shifting, with internal means to press or even process basic sorts of ammunition. He'd read about them before. Allegedly Atlas had great big building-sized models that could print off thousands of rounds of dust ammo a day, a key invention that helped fuel Atlas's rise in recent decades.

The problem was that they were often slow and not good for anything but the most basic ammo types. Specialist gunsmiths could still make better quality ammo, and people with the lien to spare typically preferred quality over quantity. You also had to provide the raw materials yourself, so you couldn't just make something out of nothing. Still, for someone too far away to buy their own ammo, but resourceful enough to scrounge…

An arrow was already definitely a rough and ready thing. Ren wondered how much better Jaune's shooting would be with custom-fletched arrows, but something was definitely better than nothing. The hunter didn't seem concerned either, no doubt used to just this level of quality. It was definitely a good way to make up for all the arrows lost when he'd thrown Jaune into the river.

"If we had metal, would that be able to make you proper arrows?"

"Sure, but it would need to be metal enough to fit in here," he said, patting the device. "Most of what we have is too valuable to be recycled. Survival equipment is technically worth more than a single arrow. More than twenty." The hunter inspected more sticks in turn, giving them a once over before putting them in his quiver too. He then started to work on chipping more stone away, and despite how much it hurt to do so, Ren let him. At least he had the photo. "Is the food ready yet?" Jaune asked.

Ren sighed and turned back to it, flipping it over and pushing it closer to the fire. "You don't have much of an appreciation for art or history, do you?"

"I might appreciate history more if anyone cared to remember anything other than who beat who a million years ago. I don't see a point in caring about that - isn't it better to let old grudges die?" He nicked another stone off. "Same with art. What's the point of carrying around a pretty piece of paper in a frame when I can just wake up to watch the sunrise or look up at the stars all night?"

Ren hadn't thought of it like that. Then again, he couldn't remember the last time he'd really watched the night sky. He must have when he was a child, for sure, but after so many years in the brightly lit Kingdoms, and then in his training as a Huntsman…

"Hell, I might be more interested if my stomach wasn't currently trying to eat my spine. Why is it taking so long?"

"Because I have to cook it long enough kill the bacteria, but not too much to destroy the taste. Plus, the dust takes time to settle in to unlock the flavour."

Jaune sighed and focused on his wanton destruction. "I could have roasted it over the fire in twenty minutes."

"Yes, and it would have been as hard as nails and tougher than leather." He stared hard at the hunter until the blonde gave up with a soft grumble. "I think I'm starting to see the problem with your cooking."

"Don't normally take the time to cook for an hour…" Jaune grumbled, a little embarrassed.

"No, but we are, so be patient. You're worse than Nora, and she-" He cut off and swallowed difficultly, tightness wrapping around his throat suddenly. Jaune noticed and turned towards him.

"Nora?"

Ren closed his eyes and reached for his semblance. Only a bit came up, but it was enough. "My childhood friend," Ren explained with a sigh. "My partner, in fact. We've been together almost as long as I can remember." He took a moment to swallow, and shut his eyes harder for a moment, but pushed on before Jaune could take advantage of the moment. "Like you, she rarely has the patience for how long it takes to cook a proper meal." He gave a bitter-sweet chuckle as he poked another piece of meat. Almost ready. "Never complained about my quality, though." Though he'd no doubt given her many a chance too, until he'd finally matured enough to improve…

"Nothing wrong with thinking about those left behind," Jaune said, almost awkwardly as he only pretended to focus at defacing the mural. "Memories keep a man going, especially when you're out in the Grimmlands." When Ren didn't respond, any hint of sympathy was traded out for sass. "So, I remind you of this girl, then? Should I be worried about how you were looking at me last night?"

"I wasn't-" Ren began, but then realized he was being had. He snorted. "I'm sure you'll be fine. On second thought, you're nothing alike. Nora is brash and impulsive, but really caring deep down. You-"

He paused.

"I what?" Jaune asked, no doubt with a shit-eating smirk on his face.

Ren had been about to say some variation of 'are always using your ass to fabricate your own arrows,' but that didn't flow easily. Or make for polite conversation. Best not start something now.

"Nothing. Maybe you'll see for yourself. I'll have to introduce you to her when all this is over."

"You probably shouldn't. Huntresses and I don't exactly mix."

"Nora's not exactly your typical Huntress," Ren laughed, the first glimmer of real mirth in a while. "I doubt she'll give you a choice either. Save my life and she'll make you be a friend and give you a spine-crushing hug too."

"I'll keep my distance and slip away then. Food ready yet?"

"I-" Ren sighed and looked down to the barely sizzling rabbit. It almost pained him to give in to the incessant whining, but there was no hiding reality. "Yes, it's ready."

It wasn't really anything more than some twice-baked rabbit with a bit of thyme and dust flakes in the middle.

Taste exploded in his mouth. Just the hint of fire dust was… it was like lava, if lave was a sauce, and dry and crunchy rather than molten. His mouth definitely felt the heat- and so did his throat as he swallowed- but by the time it hit his stomach, Ren felt the warmth spreading through his core, warming and drying him from the inside out. He definitely gulped down his water from the canteen, but…

It was official. With the right balance of flake-spice, it didn't _matter_ what it originally was. It was simply better, even if half of his satisfaction was because of hunger and half of it just relief that he wouldn't have to eat Jaune's char again. Yes, he'd rather eat a well-balanced meal at Beacon with his friends anyway, but he'd also gladly cook for the rest of the time until they got back there.

Jaune seemed to agree, wolfing down his portion and chugging down water right there with him. In a matter of minutes all the remaining rabbit meat was gone, and soon after the water. Soon Jaune was leaning back, patting his stomach with a satisfied air.

"Not bad, Huntsman." He blew out of his mouth, still cooling down. "It's spicy too. I never had it taste like that before."

"That's probably because you used too much. Too many flakes will overwhelm everything else and kill your taste buds. Just a little is more than enough. That's what my teacher told me," he said, watching Jaune as he said it.

Jaune didn't verbally respond to that, but the way his brow creased just for a second said more than enough. Jaune rose to his feet with a grunt, before reaching down and grabbing both their water canteens.

"Well, whatever it was it worked. I'll go refill the canteens," Jaune 'offered,' not really giving Ren a chance (or a reason) to refuse. "Clean up and do your business before I get back, though," he bid. "When I get back, I'll set up some traps outside. I doubt we'll need much down here, but you never know. If you wake up and need to go in the night, be sure to fling it out the roof."

"I'll manage," Ren said with his face twisted in disgust.

"If you say so," Jaune chuckled, likely at his distaste, and then left.

Ren watched him go and saw some of the damaged mural as well. It pained him to see the architecture damaged like that, but he knew better than to express that opinion; their survival was more important. Still…

He brushed his hand against Jaune's scroll, which he hadn't given back yet. Even if Jaune didn't appreciate it, something priceless was inside here now. It would have to be enough.

Ren did his business, well away and well before Jaune returned. As he said, Jaune began to set up his traps, though in this case it was little more than wire across the door and between some buildings - a sound trap, if not a trip. Jaune finished while bringing in one last bundle of cut roots to burn, while Ren tried to make himself comfortable as he stoked the fire for the last time that night.

Even if the stone platform beneath him wasn't comfortable, it was much better than the uneven and rocky cave floors they'd been subject to the for last few nights. With his pack under his head as a pillow and his blanket pulled over his body, he found himself drifting off faster than he would have imagined. The steadily chugging sound of Jaune's quiver making new arrows was almost a lullaby.

As he drifted off, he wondered what kind of life the people who had once lived here held, and more importantly, what kind of fate they had eventually suffered. What had made this ruin, a ruin? When had these lands stopped being contested, and merely become the Grimm lands? Through the hole in the ceiling he could see the faintest shaft of light, moonlight, drifting through what must have been a crack in the ceiling of the cave. There were some glimmering objects around it too. An artificial night sky, naturally formed in an underground city.

He drifted to sleep watching them, imagining that he was out beneath the starry sky.

/-/

It was the sudden darkness, and not the noise, that woke him up.

Ren came to in the dark, darker than it should have been. At first he feared the chimney had been stopped to plug them with black smoke, but it wasn't. Rather, the moonlight that had filtered in through the cave roof and their chimney had vanished, snuffing out the soft light and leaving only their meagre fire.

Then he heard the sound, like rocks being ground against one another. His brows crossed, even as he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. There should have been no cause for it, but recollection of their situation came back to him and he reared up on the stone bed.

He almost hit Jaune, who had been reaching out to shake him awake.

"You're up?" Jaune said needlessly. "Good. Somethings up."

"That sound-?"

"I hear it. Woke me up." In the fading light of the dim fire, Jaune's eyes sparkled as they inspected the gloom outside their little hut. His bow was out, an arrow ready to be nocked, but the string had not been drawn and the hunter made no move to do so. Recognising the need for silence, Ren kept his voice quiet.

"Do you know what that was?"

"Rocks moving, or something moving across them." The hunter's lips thinned, and he peeked outside the door as best he could without sticking his head through the doorway. Seeing nothing, he leaned back.

"Should I kill the fire?"

"No. Whatever might be down here is more used to the dark than we are."

It couldn't be people; that just wasn't possible. The idea was the first to come to mind but Ren dismissed it. Had anyone still been alive down here the Kingdoms would have known, or they would have when they showed up unannounced and took over a random house. Faunus could see in the dark, but that didn't mean they embraced it, or lived in dark, dank, caverns under mountains.

Ren drew Stormflower and checked what little ammunition remained, less than a clip on each. He reversed them for the bladed grip and fixed his eyes on the hole in the ceiling, trusting Jaune to watch the doorway. The two waited in silence.

Nothing.

He held his breath as long as he could, but no sounds reached them other than the light crackle of the fire and the distant rustle of the river he'd fallen into. His own breathing joined that as his lungs protested. Of the noise that had woken him, there was nothing.

It could have been rats, he told himself. Rats, insects, or maybe even a loose piece of rock falling as Mouk stomped around far above. Most Grimm ignored animals but that didn't mean other predators did and a cave like this would have served well as shelter from hungry birds. There could have been any other number of cave-dwelling fauna that made this place their home. It could have been anything…

But the Grimmlands had left him with a certain appreciation for believing otherwise. If it were anything, then he'd politely accept that he was wrong – but he'd rather be wrong than dead. He looked to Jaune and opened his mouth.

Something clicked atop their very building.

Jaune's eyes shot to his, Ren's meeting halfway. As one they both slowly traced up towards the ceiling and the central hole, through which the smoke billowed upwards and away. That had definitely been a clicking sound – and not the type one might expect of a scroll, camera, or other piece of mechanical equipment. It was a wet, crackly, sound.

" _Don't. Move_." Jaune mouthed.

Ren's heart hammered in his chest. He nodded once, then looked up toward the ceiling, straining to hear the sound once more. He prayed he wouldn't, but there it was – a soft click, like something being gently placed atop their dwelling. It was followed by a sudden shadow as something covered the smoke hole, or rather appeared above it. No detail could be made other than shadow, but there was something on top of the building, and it was investigating the smoke.

Jaune licked his lips and drew back his arrow. He glanced to Ren, nodded a quick warning, and then slowly – with painstaking care – raised his bow up towards the gap. He inched his body to the side, angling for a better shot, all the while Ren held his breath. He found the perfect angle, took a deep breath… and released.

" _Screeeeee_!" The noise was horrifying – a mixture of a screech and a hiss yet somehow far higher, enough to make Ren's ears ache. The shadow above the hole vanished instantly and heavy slaps echoed about the outside of the building.

Jaune wasted no time, pulling on his bag and reaching to pull the string of his own trap. He grabbed one of the last real pieces of wood from the fire and pulled it out as a torch. He shone it outside and stepped out. "Go, go, go!"

Ren followed, stooping to drag his pack on, and also to grab the other flaming chunk of wood to use as a makeshift torch of his own. He was a second behind the hunter and swung the torch to light the path. Thick vines, white and sticky, criss-crossed the path to the left, the one they'd come from, and the same covered the exit in the other direction.

"These weren't here when we arrived!"

"I know. It's-" His eyes widened, and he shoved Ren aside. The two of them crashed into the wall of a nearby building as something fell down between them and would have fallen on his head if not for Jaune. It was a black and hairy creature with far too many legs and eyes. It thrashed and kicked, struggling past the shaft buried in its torso. No, it's abdomen. Ren lashed out and cut one of its long, chitinous legs off, but that didn't stop it trying to hit them. Jaune fired a second arrow directly between the thing's eyes, but it didn't die until Ren drove his daggers down.

Its seven remaining legs twitched and curled upward above itself, and before it began to dissolve, they caught sight of its powerful mandibles and large, bulbous, and blood-red eyes.

"Spiders," Jaune gagged. "Why does it always have to be spiders? I _hate_ spiders!"

It was a spider Grimm… one that had to be three feet tall and six or more long from leg to leg. Arachne. He'd only heard of them in legend and stories, a reclusive sort of Grimm that waited its life away laying traps rather than outright attacking like most Grimm did.

"We're in its web," Jaune realized, panting. "We need to get out of here. Right now!"

"I'm not arguing!"

Another screech from above cut them off and something dropped from the ceiling. Ren wasted no time waiting for it and fired upwards, bursting the spider's body apart in a spray of bullets. Arachne were fearsome trappers, but feeble warriors. Still, that hasty burst alone had taken at least half of the remaining bullets from Stormflower. If there were another, or just another three…

The light from the muzzle flashed, glinting off what had to be so many more eyes up by the ceiling. That was a lot _more_ than three. He froze for a moment, staring at the swarm, until Jaune caught his shoulder and dragged him along.

Ren caught himself and followed, rushing through the streets while keeping one eye on the hunter and another above them. How the hell had they not noticed these things? How had the Grimm not noticed them? Had these creatures destroyed the colony here – or just moved in after they were dead? The questions flashed through his mind, not that there was time for them.

"Left ahead!" Jaune yelled. "Come on, keep movin- argh!" he shouted, as a sudden mass of movement pulled him out of sight.

"Jaune!"

Ren pushed himself on and rounded the corner in time to see Jaune trapped against one of the white vines, his arm and shoulder stuck to it. The hunter's eyes were and afraid, angled upward as three Arachne, alerted by the vibrations, shuffled down the web towards him. He tried to bring his bow upward but that only got him more trapped.

"Hold on," Ren hissed, hacking at the thick material with Stormflower. It was viscous and wet, covered in faint goo that made cutting through it all but impossible. In desperation, and with the Arachne almost upon them, he swung the torch upward and into the web.

It ignited instantly. Whatever the strange fluid was that gave it its adhesive properties it was flammable, and the flames roared as they surged up and down, licking against Jaune's coat but freeing him from the quickly disintegrating strand. Ren caught him as he fell. Up above the Arachne that had almost been upon them shrieked and caught fire, dropping down onto the ground and thrashing wildly. The flames went further, however, tracing up and across what was quickly revealed to be a gargantuan web that must have covered the entire cave.

"That whole thing was made while we slept," Jaune gasped. "They tried to pin us in and kill us at their leisure."

It was a terrifying thought and Ren swallowed. If they'd both been caught on that web without any access to the fire, then they'd have been doomed. Any struggles to escape would have just worn them out and summoned more Grimm. It was a fate that didn't bear thinking about.

The fire continued to spread among the web, incinerating branching paths and spilling Grimm to the floor. Many fell on fire and died but some chose to drop themselves and scuttled across buildings towards them, the entire cave illuminated now by the searing flame. It wasn't as large as they'd first thought but that wasn't what caught the eye. Arachne covered the ceiling like a carpet of black bodies and red eyes. There had to be hundreds if not thousands of them.

Jaune took a nervous step back, grasping his red armband as if to stabilize himself. His voice emerged with barely a quiver. "We take the river, or we try our luck in the other cave."

"The cave," Ren decided, already rushing for it. It was far closer, and the river had flowed the wrong way, back out into Mouk's domain. There was no telling what lay ahead, and it might even have been more of the creatures, but if it _was_ a way out then they wanted to take it. Beowolves were fine. Ursa were great. Hell, give him a Deathstalker any day. Spider-Grimm? No, no, no.

Just no.

"Bloody caves," Jaune cursed, even as he followed Ren's lead. "Nothing good every happens in caves. Damn it all!"

Ren didn't respond to that, probably because he was too busy trying to make sure Jaune escaped this one alive. Jaune reached the tunnel first and shone his torch in while Ren stayed to cover his back, dodging one spindly leg and lopping it off at the knee. The Arachne screeched and lashed out with venom-tipped mandibles, but they caught rock as Ren leapt back. He stomped a foot down atop its head, cringing at the feeling of it, and fired a single round into its skull. It twitched and fell, though even when dead and fading, its long legs periodically lashed out.

"Paths clear," Jaune called. "Come on. Watch out for webs. You got those flares? Keep 'em out. If we get stuck again just light the whole place up."

Ren nodded. He'd rather take his chances with fire than spiders too. Even as they ran down the narrow cave tunnel he could hear the chitinous rattle of feet behind them, and an ill-advised glance back revealed the Arachne were in hot pursuit, some crawling upside down on the ceiling, and others on the walls. It was a wave of red and black with long legs and sharp fangs. He fired a flare into it, hoping to scare them away, but the Grimm parted around the smoking red object, some catching fire but most scuttling past.

"They're gaining," Ren panted. His leg was aching again, but he didn't dare let it slow him. The sounds behind were closer than ever.

"Ahead!" Jaune gasped. "Light!"

Ren saw it a second later, a sudden shimmering light ahead from the tunnel. It gave him news hope and a burst of energy and they both surged towards it. The Arachne were almost upon them but they both dashed out of the tunnel and into the sunlight.

Only to find that it wasn't.

Ren landed first, rolled on the cave floor and flipped back to his feet, Stormflower at the ready. He prepared for the sudden bite of fangs – and to give his life dearly – but there was no Grimm before him.

Jaune landed next, rolling far less gracefully and kicking up dust and coming to a stop with a pained rasp. He was up a second later, staggering as he drew his bow, but no arrow was fired, and none needed to be. The Grimm had stopped at the edge of the cave mouth. A sea of red eyes that occasionally found itself covered by grotesque legs and fangs. None dared enter the cave, which had walls that seemed to sparkle for some reason, casting light all about and tricking their minds into thinking it bright daylight.

"The light hurts them," Ren realised, and quickly grabbed Jaune's torch to shine it at the cave wall. The reflection was blinding, and the artificial light flickered off what felt like a thousand gemstones. The Grimm hissed and skittered back. "This cave is too bright for them. Either that or they think it's the fire again." Maybe that was why they were so reclusive? Grimm hurt by sunlight would rarely come into contact with most Kingdoms…

"Keep that torch shining and I'll give them some," Jaune said, shucking off his pack and reaching for some firewood. He kept a wary eye on them but lit the branch quickly and waved it toward the Grimm. They backed away even further. With a quick run up, Jaune threw the torch toward the tunnel, and this time the Grimm scuttled away completely.

The mass of furry bodies and bone plates vanished, scurrying back down the tunnel and leaving it abandoned, but for the torch which greedily burned away at the entrance.

"They might be looking for another way in," Jaune warned before Ren could relax. "We better not stay here long."

"I'm… a little winded…"

The hunter glanced to him, and tutted. "I thought you Huntsmen were made of sterner stuff."

Ren tried not to colour. "We usually are, but… well, it's been a hard week." Adrenaline slipped away, leaving behind exhaustion and a bizarre humour that had him laughing. "That wasn't fun. I'd rather take my chances with Mouk than something like that."

"Tell me about it. I _hate_ spiders."

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Are you afraid of them?"

"Not scared, just hate," Jaune denied. "Hiding in bedrolls, making nests in your firewood, crawling under every goddamn rock or onto your face while you're hiding in a tree trying to get a clean shot…" The hunter shuddered and collapsed down on his rear, legs splayed as he panted for breath. "Not even good for eating, so no point hunting them. Now caves…" he shuddered again. "Nothing good ever happens in caves, and now I get to add the delightful memory of being stuck in a Grimm spider's web to the list. Wonderful. Remind me never to go diving into a cave after you again."

"Not a fan of spelunking?"

"What?" Jaune sounded confused

"Spelunking. You know…" Ren began, except it was pretty clear Jaune didn't. "Cave diving."

"Why didn't you just say that?"

"I did, you just - oh never mind," Ren said, dismissing it. "At least we got out alive. Short break?"

"Y-Yeah." Jaune glowered at him, breathing hard. "But only because you're sucking wind."

"Right." Ren rolled his eyes and refrained from pointing out just how exhausted Jaune looked. The hunter was on the verge of collapsing, not at all used to the desperate pace a huntsman could keep. Still, it was impressive enough given that he was effectively a civilian. He pulled off his pack and tossed it down beside Jaune's but took the chance to inspect the cave that had essentially saved their lives, not through any physical action, but by having a wall studded with shining stones.

"What is this?"

"Hm?" Jaune glanced up and sighed. "It's dust."

"What?"

"Dust," he repeated, in an echo of Ren's own earlier tone. "You know… dust. Used for everything, powering electronics, weapons." He paused to stare. "Don't tell me you've never seen it before?"

"I've seen dust, obviously. It's just that the dust we see is normally powder." Or flakes, rare as that was.

"That's refined dust. SDC has to mine it from something and it doesn't come out in granule form. World might be fairer if it did. Most of the time it comes out like a rock, or a gem. Like this," He nodded to the walls.

Ren nodded and went back to marvelling at the sight. It was beautiful; an eclectic mix of various hues and colours, not casting light itself but reflecting and distorting the light from their torch and dying it bright pinks, reds, blues and yellows. It was like a rainbow thrown in his face.

"Is it safe to touch?"

"We ate it, didn't we? Dust flakes are just small chips off a larger dust crystal. Still…" Jaune walked up, inspecting the wall. "This is a _lot_ of dust. I don't think I saw half this much in the Edge pit. And the types! Fire, ice… is that gravity? I've never seen dust mixed like this."

"It usually isn't," Ren noted, remembering his basic lessons of dust geology. "Usually nodes are mostly one sort of dust, with a sampling of others. Dust generally doesn't mix without some sort of seismic event."

"Seismic what now?"

"Like… earthquakes. Or tremors. Things that shift the earth and mix nodes together. But this…" he looked closer. What could have caused this much geological chaos?

A crystal on a nearby wall caught his attention, slightly larger than the others yet still no bigger than his thumb. It might have run deeper into the rock with only a hexagonal tip protruding. It was bright red, likely used for fire dust, and contrary to expectation it wasn't hot to the touch. It was smooth and cold like glass. It was stuck, too, and didn't budge when he lightly tapped it with Stormflower.

"Is it volatile?" Ren asked, not daring to do any more just yet.

"It's not going to explode if you hit it," Jaune said. "We don't exactly mine with feather dusters, you know. You're thinking of processed dust, which is more… I guess you could say reliably unstable." He tried to put it in words. "Dust is processed so it's easier to use. It's easier to blow up, yeah, but that's because it's already been broken down so that it can trigger itself easier. All processed dust is breaking it down into tiny pieces, like making dust flakes of dust flakes, and mixing in different types to make it do whatever you need. You lose some of the material in the process, but the rest is easier to use."

He reached for one crystal, a bit looser than the rest, and violently yanked it free of the wall. It jerked free, and clearly didn't explode.

"Raw dust crystals are harder to trigger because they're still big crystals, and all one type. Raw crystals can be stronger than plain dust if you get them triggered, but it's harder to do that. I could make an arrowhead with a dust crystal to give whatever I shoot a nasty shock, but it won't do anything if it doesn't crack. If it doesn't break, it's just a fancy stone arrowhead. If it _shatters_ , though…"

He grinned.

"What about this cave?" Ren asked, looking at it. "Think it's the next big thing for Edge?"

"Could be." Jaune's smile thinned. "I don't fancy the odds of anyone trying to make a stake in Mouk's territory, though, not even SDC. Do you?"

Ren frowned too but didn't disagree. He'd seen a Haven airship fleet on parade once. Maybe if you brought an entire fleet with all the hunters of Mistral aboard they might pummel Mouk from above… but that would have to be while dealing with all the flying Grimm in the region at the same time, giant Nevermore and all. Casualties would be certain, and Ren wouldn't put it past Mouk to stand up and swat some out of the sky as well or throw boulders up at them. And even if he couldn't…

Ren wasn't sure what even the headmaster of Haven academy could do, except run away.

And that was without factoring the rest of the Grimmlands, from the ones on the surface to the Arachne swarm underneath. You could throw an army of men and machines at them, and never be sure you got them all. He could well imagine miners breaking into a new cavern, only to be dragged away screaming to their doom…

You'd need a small city just to fight back the darkness underneath, let alone the monster above ground.

"Maybe… maybe this place should stay hidden…"

It would be a shame to imagine a find like this not seeing the light of day again, but he could understand the reasons. Real people would need to give their lives to secure it, and what was good for Edge wouldn't be good for others. Any dust colony placed here would be built on tears and bones as much as dust, no matter how profitable it might be.

Jaune, it seemed, didn't care much about the bigger picture, and was moving to another crystal of a different colour.

"Take a picture if you want to remember it longer, but we can still make use of it now. Give me a minute to grab some of these and we can make use of them later. Why don't you watch the cave, and see if anything is on the other side?"

Ren took Jaune's advice and moved a little closer to a different tunnel, one opposite the tunnel the Grimm had departed through. This one was brighter, more dust crystals reflecting light, and that gave him the confidence to take a step inside, though not so far that he lost sight of his companion. The tunnel widened quickly, splaying out in every direction with oddly smooth grooves on the floor and walls. He knelt and touched a finger to a larger dust crystal, one that looked to have been sheared or snapped in two, the latter half remaining in the ground but the top missing. Had the people who lived here tried to excavate the dust?

The walls were similarly pitted, with jagged spikes of rock that didn't look to have formed naturally. Most of the cave walls were relatively smooth whereas these had long lines and furrows gouged into them, as though someone had taken a giant pickaxe or heavy tool to the rock... but then _scraped_ it across in parallel.

"Found something?" Jaune asked, walking up behind him. It looked like their rest was over.

"I was just looking at these crystals. Do they look damaged to you?"

Jaune's brow furrowed and he moved over to inspect one. It was a wide crystal a deep blue in colour on the floor, and it had white lines running across it and a shockingly flat edge. "Looks like it. This is the middle of a larger piece, with the other half missing."

"And the marks on the walls," Ren pointed out. "This isn't natural." Even he could tell that.

"I see them. I can tell you right now that SDC hasn't been out this far. I'd have heard about it if they did." He eyed Ren and shook his head. "The people back there couldn't have done this. The cuts are too deep." He ran a hand over one, which looked to go inches into the rock. "And too new. The corners have dulled with time yet - see?"

"How hard is dust to cut?"

"Not too hard. It's refining it that's difficult. Even if those people mined this, I doubt they could have turned it into anything other than jewellery." Jaune stood and dusted his hands. "Well, whatever this is it isn't going to get us out of here. Let's go."

They made their way further into the corridor with Jaune in the lead, torch pointing forward, and Ren behind, a fresh piece of wood in one hand and the means to light it in the other. If they came upon more Arachne, they'd be ready. Fortunately, the cave walls retained the dust crystals all the way through and the light from Jaune's torch was cast far and wide, twinkling in incandescent hues, almost like they were walking through a tunnel of stars and not rock.

The grooves grew bigger as they carried on, beginning to resemble marks from picks even less as the tunnel widened out, slowly at first, and then with increased speed. They paused to hop down a brief drop, landing atop some rubble and strewn dust before they carried on. Boulders and rocks strewn across the floor became more prevalent, as did those pushed toward the side of the now much-wider cave, as though something had processed and stacked them out of the way. The rocks that were as such lacked the dust crystals, or still had some but small and insignificant ones.

"Are you sure the SDC haven't been here?" Ren asked.

"I'm… well, I'm _fairly_ sure. They might have done a secret expedition, I suppose. If so, it would have been before my time."

"And they wouldn't have told the people of Edge?"

"Not if it went badly," Jaune said. "You don't tell your dust miners about how you got another bunch of them killed."

Well, that was… grim.

"But no one from Edge was lost out here any time recently, I can tell you that," Jaune continued. "Villages may disappear all the time, but villagers don't. Not like that. If someone's lost to the Grimmlands their family would mourn, even if they got hush money."

"Maybe another town, then?" Ren suggested, trying to make sense of it.

"Maybe," Jaune conceded, thinking on it too. "It's possible. I didn't think there were any villages this far north anymore, but if someone set one up for a long-range expedition…" He shook his head. "I'm still not convinced this is SDC, though," Jaune murmured, shining his torch from left to right. "If it was them, where's all the equipment? You'd expect at least some to have been left behind or at least some torches on the walls, spotlights, that kind of thing."

"What else could it be?" Ren asked.

"I don't know. That's what worries me." The hunter took a deep breath and let it go. "There's another cavern ahead, and…" he sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?"

"I feel a breeze," Ren replied. "An exit?"

Jaune frowned. "That too, but… nah, maybe I'm just jumpy. Been in these caves too long."

"Maybe this is why the Arachne didn't follow us," Ren suggested, trying to be optimistic. "They knew the sunlight would hurt them."

Jaune frowned at that too. "Maybe," he conceded. "At the very least, we can't go back."

The new cave they entered was the largest yet and featured numerous cracks and chasms in the walls and ceiling, one or two allowing moonlight to peek through. It was enough light that they cut the torch and still had the rays of moonlight reflected off the dust crystals with which to see.

There was also a giant pile of boulders in the centre, piled together as though they'd been discarded by someone.

"Wait, what's this?" Jaune turned smaller boulder over, locating the spot at which it had been broken free from a larger crystal. There were numerous grooves on it, most of which travelled in the same direction. "It's like something scraped against it. SDC wouldn't do that, nor would they leave this lying around."

Ren looked a little closer and saw the grooves he meant. There'd be no point mining into a dust crystal. "They look like claw marks," he said. "Do Grimm care about dust?"

"Not that I know of. The top half is missing." He put the crystal away and moved ahead, Ren in pursuit. They came across more crystals in a similar state of disarray, and hundreds of shards shattered on the ground. Some were large, others small, and some looked like the dust itself had been shaved, with littler crystals falling to the floor as the bigger deposits were destroyed.

The SDC wouldn't have wasted such material, nor would anyone mining it. It almost seemed like something was taking and smashing them, or at least breaking them down into smaller chunks for some bizarre purpose.

Up ahead, a glimmer of light shone through the cave – not a reflection off the crystals, which had by this point died out, but an actual beam of light. Jaune and Ren paused on the edge of it, shared a look, and then rushed forward. The tunnel before them opened suddenly, rock peeled back above, to the side, and below; as they slid down a sloped face and into the greatest cavern they'd seen yet – a veritable giant of a cave which had a huge opening to one side, outside of which a starry sky could be seen. There was another giant pile of boulders in the centre, far larger than the last, but they ignored it as their slide down the rock face came to an end. They'd found the exit, and Ren dared to laugh as he landed on his feet and pulled Jaune up beside him.

A huge blast of hot air cut them off, pushing back their hair and knocking them onto their rear. It was followed by a blast of air in the opposite direction, and several loose pebbles rattled and shifted across the floor, before they were thrown back into their faces as the wind picked up again. Or not the wind, as it turned out. The huge mound of rock before them shifted, twitched, and then settled down again. Ren took a closer look, as did Jaune, and the two froze as a gargantuan paw – easily four times the size of a Bullhead – lazily crashed down not three metres behind them, impacting the wall and causing the entire cave to shake.

Snoring commenced again, and the two were drawn forward by the force of it.

They'd found the exit, but it was also an entrance, and one very much in use. As Ren swallowed and exchanged a frightened glance with Jaune, who looked equally nervous, he realised just what they'd discovered.

Mouk's lair.

* * *

 **CF's Notes**

* * *

 **Dun dun duuuuuuhn!**

 **Another chapter with only a day or two to review... but actually one of my favourite Coeur-driven ones yet. We're well into the part of the story where Coeur is writing towards directed key points, and this adventure under the mountain was totally on him. Kudos, Coeur, kudos.**

 **Some people might remember the end of One Good Turn, and the foreshadowed adventure of Ren and Jaune going off to find forgotten cities. This... is something like that in reverse. I think this let Coeur get in something he's been itching to write in some fashion for a while now, even as it definitely fits the spirit of Hunter or Something.**

 **And now, a cliff hanger. After a chapter that had some interesting things, which might be put together in interesting ways. Can you catch all the clues and put together the subtext that's put together, and about to break?**

 **Next chapter- the return to the boring moody beta plot of Edge!**

 **(Just kidding. Shit's gonna get real.)**

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** 17th February

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	12. Chapter 12

**Welcome to the end of the beginning, and the first real arc that began the story.**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

* * *

He'd been close to Mouk before, but never this close. Jaune figured his uncle would forgive him the panic that raced through him, especially considering the situation. His hand twitched for his red armband by instinct, but luckily it wasn't necessary. The giant beast didn't move.

"It's asleep," the Huntsman beside him said, stating the obvious as usual. "This must be where it comes to rest, or perhaps my attack injured it and it needed to recuperate."

"It won't stay asleep if you keep talking like that!" Jaune hissed as loud as he dared. His hand shook as he grabbed the idiot by the wrist and dragged him to the side, so that they could walk about the beast's feet and reach the exit.

"Keep quiet," Jaune whispered. "We need to get outside so I can figure out where we are. If we play our cards right, we can get far enough away before he wakes up." They wouldn't be safe and dry after that, but they'd certainly be safer. If they were near where he thought they were, at least the Grimm up ahead wouldn't be driven mad from last week's bombastic fight against Huntsmen and Huntresses, or yesterday's mad chase.

Whole damn thing would be easier if they'd not caused such a mess.

Mouk let out a loud snort. The beast shifted just a tiny bit, but even that movement was enough to make dust rain from the ceiling of the cave. Jaune and Ren froze, ready to leap behind a rock- less to hide, and more to ensure they wouldn't be rolled over. To his immense relief the beast went back to sleep, its snores echoing off the cavern's walls.

Too close. Much too close. Jaune gestured for Ren to follow and skirted around the edge of the cave. The moonlight from outside provided light, limited as it was, and a destination. The two of them scaled a small mountain of rubble, careful not to dislodge any, and slowly came down the other side in a tinkle of fallen stones.

Only to come upon a huge furry paw squashed up against the rock wall. Mouk's foot, or a part of its foot, knee, and shin, which had been bent in two and laid against the wall as it slept. It was blocking the path quite effectively.

"Damn it…"

Ren thankfully kept to a whisper as he slid down beside Jaune. "Can we climb over it?"

"I don't fancy our odds," he replied. There was only a small amount of space between the top of Mouk's legs and the ceiling, and if he stirred or tried to stand they'd surely be crushed. That assumed he didn't just wake up from them trying to crawl all over him in the first place.

"I see." Ren sighed, before looking at the larger mass. "And I suppose it would be too dangerous to scale his body and walk along it, perhaps climbing down his hip."

Jaune stared at the huntsman like he was insane. Maybe he was.

"I thought as much. I suppose that leaves going around the other way."

Past the head, he meant. It was a risky proposition and why he'd led them to the feet first. Mouk might be fast asleep but that could change at a moment's notice. The last place they wanted to be was right next to his face when that happened.

Still, they didn't have many options. Sneak past Grimm or try their luck back with the Arachne. He'd rather take the immediate death to one where he was wrapped in a web, had his insides melted, and was sucked dry like a smoothie at the leisure of several hundred Grimm arachnids. He'd throw himself into Mouk's jaws first.

"Yeah, but stay quiet," he whispered. "And whatever you do, don't touch him. Ursa have surprisingly good senses of feeling. He'll have learned to rely on it more after losing an eye."

"I'm surprised the Arachne didn't warn him we were coming."

"Maybe they were too far away and underground. Or maybe he can't sense stuff when he's asleep. Either way, they're at least afraid he'll squish them if he rolls over. If we're desperate we can retreat back into the tunnel we came from."

The plan set, the two of them clambered back up and over the pile of rubble and made their way back to where they'd come from, out by Mouk's face and shoulders. It was slow going again, made more so by the fact they paused to hide every time Mouk stirred. Jaune noticed Ren stumbled once or twice as well, evidence that the huntsman's ankle wasn't as healed as he was being led to believe. They couldn't stop for it.

When they reached the tunnel Jaune hesitated and had Ren stay behind. If things went south the huntsman would be the slower to escape. "I'll scout ahead," he whispered.

"Be careful," Ren urged.

"You don't need to tell me that, city-boy. I'm always careful."

Ren held his gaze for a long moment. Again, he saw the reluctance in the Huntsman's eyes. Those same reluctance every Huntsman had when watching anyone else do something. Those same pink eyes closed with a sigh. Ren nodded. "Okay. I trust you."

'At least until you don't,' Jaune thought, turning away. Even so, it was a step in the right direction.

His feet barely crunched as he leapt down from the tunnel, one hand slapping down to cushion his fall. The other itched to go to his bow, but he let resisted the urge and concentrated on the task ahead. Any number of arrows wouldn't be enough. Mouk was too strong, too large, and too close. He would kill them both the second he woke. Jaune paused, brow creasing. It was normal, he supposed. The fear.

He drew a deep breath.

He held it.

And with a sharp exhale, he let it go – and all his fear with it.

Grimm were Grimm, no matter the size. He was a hunter – and a hunter was never prey. With not an ounce of hesitation, he dashed forward. Left, right, over a rock. His eyes picked out obstacles with ease and he adapted quickly, rolling and using solid pieces of rock to get over looser ones. He skirted the giant head, paying no attention to it but rather the path ahead.

 _"Don't dwell on things you can't change,"_ his uncle had tried to teach him. _"If something is going to happen then it's going to happen. Focus instead on what you can effect."_

The Grimm would wake up when he wanted to. No amount of awareness would change that. But the faster he and Ren could get through the better. All he could affect was their speed. Like a monsoon, Mouk wasn't something they could stop, just work around.

Mouk grumbled in his sleep. One of its forepaws, the size of a small building, drew back in towards its body. The huge palm rushed for Jaune's face. The hunter sprinted toward it and leapt up, catching himself on one of the beast's giant claws. The palm was moving to its body now, ready to crush him against Mouk's flank. It also dragged huge swatches of rock with it, dragging along the bottom of the cave.

Well, if he couldn't go under, then it would have to be over. His feet swung as he used the claw as a pivot, himself as the pendulum. With a lurch he managed to swing himself up, landing on the top of its paw scant seconds before it crushed him. He leapt off, hitting the gravel with a roll and a grunt of pain.

 _Breathe. Hold. Let go…_

Move on. Keep moving. If you stood still you died. Jaune dashed ahead, finally clearing the monster's shoulders and coming around to its face. He slowed his pace, then, taking a deep breath and holding it. Self-control was everything.

When was it not the case? He moved silently, as he always did when stalking a deer. His back pressed against the rock face as he passed by Mouk's face, then the top of his head, and finally emerged beyond.

But not to the sight he wanted.

/-/

Ren breathed a sigh of relief when Jaune emerged unharmed from behind the beast, but that relief was short-lived. The hunter's expression was dark, his scowl legendary. "What's wrong?" Ren asked.

"His shoulders are bunched up against the wall as well. There's no way through."

"He fills the cave from head to toe?"

"More like he plugged the whole thing up," Jaune said. "He's bigger than the cave and has to curl up to fit in it. It looks like a tight fit."

He tried to not let his despair show, clamping down on it with his Semblance. "What do we do now? Do we go back and try to find another way? Wait for him to go away?"

Jaune frowned. "It's not my first choice, but those people who died down there wouldn't have done so if they had another exit. If the Arachne alert him when he wakes up..."

"If they do?"

"We die. He can camp out there a lot longer than we can hold out between them."

Well... that was grim. Was this what happened to the lost city? Caught between a spider-hoard on one end and Mouk on the other, left to starve or die of despair? Ren tried not to think about it.

"Should we wait back in the tunnel we came from?" Ren asked. "It's a safe spot between him and the Arachne."

Jaune hesitated. "Not too far. I don't want us missing when he leaves- or the Arachne feeling free to move in when he does. I don't know how much of them backing off was the light, and how much was Mouk. We need to stay close, and the moment he leaves, so do we."

"You're the guide," Ren surrendered.

They avoided the tunnel and moved back down towards Mouk's legs, which Jaune felt would be a little better hidden. If Mouk woke up and tried to move towards the exit he'd kick dirt and rock in their direction, perhaps the result of the pile of rubble they'd clambered over before, but he wouldn't see them.

The pile of rubble itself provided the cover, the two of them pressing themselves in behind it and against the cave wall. That allowed them to lay on their bellies on the slope, with several tonnes of rock and detritus between them and Mouk. Ren dug down into it and managed to find a spot where he was kept steady, but Jaune wasn't having quite so much luck and kept squirming.

"There's something under this," he hissed. "It keeps poking me."

"It's probably a rock. We are sat on a pile of them."

"If it was a rock I wouldn't be having so much trouble-ah!" Jaune brought his hand out from under him.

"Is that… a knife?" Ren stared at the object. It was modern-construction; steel or some other allot. It was also pulverized and bent. "Is it yours?"

"No, it came from the rubble."

More evidence of SDC activity? Ren watched as Jaune sheathed the knife in his belt, obviously deciding he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The hunter pushed aside some more rubble while Ren kept an eye on Mouk. It didn't take him long to find some additional goodies buried in the mound.

"Some small dust crystals – might be something we can use." Jaune stored those away. "Crushed rock, some dented scrap metal. Not sure we have the time for that. And… a tube?" The last time, Jaune lifted into the air to get a better look at. It was a dull and scratched thing, a bit wider than a wrist that might once have been brilliant silver but was now scoured and lost its lustre. The 'tube' was open at one end, while the other had a strip of some soft metal on the other. While the hunter didn't seem to recognise it, Ren did, reaching over. If was what he thought it was...

There were no internal mechanisms that Ren could see, but it was unmistakably elaborate once upon a time. It was light, too... but stronger than it looked, if it's lack of dents were compared to the bent knife from before.

"It's a bracer. A type of arm armour." It didn't seem to have any obvious mechanisms like Ember Celica, but it had the same sort of metal feel. Or did it? Even in his hands, the silver metal felt warm, and light, and not of any sort of manufacture he'd ever seen. Pity it didn't seem to have a matching set. Did the original owner escape with the other, or was it lost somewhere else in this hollowed-out mountain?

"I know. Never seen one like that before," Jaune commented. "I always wanted a better one to help stop the bow from catching on my wrist, but..." he began to reach out, before stopping with a quick look towards Ren.

Ren hid a smile, guessing why. "You can have it."

"Thanks," Jaune said, as politely as he could. He lowered his sleeve just far enough to expose his arm. Underneath the sleeve was something that was probably technically a bracer- a bit of leather wrapped around the wrist at least. Jaune removed it without a second thought and slide his arm into the newer bracer, hand emerging from the other side as the soft silver bracer covered his forearm.

And then it tightened.

It was so sudden, neither had time to react before the metal moulded itself to Jaune's arm. Jaune looked at Ren, eyes wide in alarm. Ren looked at Jaune back, unable to answer. But before either could freak out... it was over, as easily as that. Ren reached forward, tentatively touching Jaune's arm.

"Is that- are you ok?" he asked, still trying to be quiet.

Jaune barely responded, looking at the armour with wariness, and... awe? "Is it supposed to do that? It's a perfect fit," he breathed, raising it to look at it better in the soft moonlight. "It almost feels... warm."

Metal like that - if it was metal - shouldn't be warm. It should be as cold as the temperature here. Ren tried not to let his alarm show- that was like no Huntsman armour he'd ever seen. Most bracers fastened, not tightened on their own.

But, like Jaune, the moment for fear was already over. Whatever it was, it wasn't hurting Jaune. That would be enough for now- and even Ren knew that dwelling on this too loudly might spell their doom.

"Come on, let's not risk any more trouble," Ren urged, pulling Jaune back down. Funny how now it was his turn to urge quiet and caution. Funny how all it'd taken was a piece of armour to unsettle him. Ren took his own breath and tried to reach down for his semblance. It was harder than ever to reach.

He was honestly relieved when Jaune didn't argue, and when the hunter instead brought out his strange ammo fabricator and opened the lid, prying some loose pieces of scrap metal from the pile inside. It started to whirr, though thankfully it was a very quiet noise. "It's for arrows," he explained. "Might as well use this metal while it's here."

Ren nodded. No one else was using it. As the familiar calm returned, he looked at Jaune looking at his new bracer, which almost glowed in the silver moonlight until he lowered his sleeve and looked at the pile it and the broken dagger had come from. All he could do was wonder. Why?

Why were there weapons and armour in the rubble? Why here in Mouk's lair? What else was buried within the rubble?

And would they themselves be buried amongst it as well?

/-/

The beast stirred after four tense hours.

It was a slow, grinding thing, like the rocks of the mountain creaking and groaning as some golem rose from its slumber. So too was it with Mouk, who pushed out with both feet that dug into the cave wall, gouging out huge chunks of rock with a mighty crack of splintered stone.

Ren and Jaune ducked low, the former concentrating as he brought his Semblance forth and expanded it like a bubble to cover the two of them. The strain it placed on him was pronounced, but Ren gritted his teeth and ignored it. Even if Jaune had proven his resolve, this wasn't a place to take chances.

Mouk's stretching complete; the beast took a moment to scan the cave. Its head passed their hiding place by, warm breath snorting out to disturb some of the loose stones and send them skittering down over their still bodies. It sniffed once, coughed, and then rumbled to itself as it shifted its weight so that it could sit upright in the huge cavern. Sadly, it made no move to leave.

Ren's brow beaded with sweat. If it were just the drain on his aura it would be bad enough, but semblances worked off the soul. His was already threadbare, working on little sleep, less food, and an aching ankle that hadn't yet had time to truly recover. Aching ankles seemed minor when Mouk's fetid breath was washing over them. He glanced to the side. Jaune hadn't moved a muscle.

To his relief the Semblance held. Mouk growled and grunted but had no idea he wasn't alone. The monster licked its claws, shuffled about in the cave, and otherwise gouged more space out of the walls, presumably widening the size of its cave. Why would it need to do that? Ren wondered. The cave was already large enough for it.

One of Mouk's paws slammed down, shaking the ground beneath them. More stones rained down. He could see it from the corner of his eye, the paw touching the wall they were against, though fifty metres or more to the side. It was in front of the tunnel they'd entered through. Had it smelled them? Had it somehow detected their entry?

It looked so. Mouk reached into the tunnel with one clawed paw, and it appeared just wide enough for him to fit and reach through, the arm reaching in up to the bicep, where it became too thick. Mouk huffed and reached around inside, perhaps looking for them. The beast's noise was enough to drown out any of their own. It was enough to make Ren want to take the chance to flee, but Jaune shifted over to whisper into Ren's ear.

"Stay down."

"It knows we're here," Ren hissed back. "It's looking for us!"

"It's not." Jaune sounded confident. "Look, it's not angry. If it knew we were here it would be growling at least. Instead he's moving slowly, lazily. It's not us he's after."

"Then what is it after?"

Jaune didn't answer. He obviously didn't know. Ren took a deep breath and looked back, relieved for their angle which gave them a decent view of the arm, but blocked Mouk's face from sight, hiding them in turn. The Grimm didn't sound like it was going wild, the gruff noises more ones of frustration, concentration, or just occasional noises made on instinct alone. That turned to a squeak, however, one slightly more excited, and Ren watched as the hand was drawn back.

The giant paw came out and scraped a large pile of rock and stone with it, some of which glittered in the light. Dust, he realised. It had scraped rock and dust crystals off the tunnel, and perhaps off the very cave walls itself.

Wait, did that mean the dust scrapes weren't SDC at all, but Mouk? Why?

His question was answered a moment later, though not in any manner he might have expected. Mouk used both paws to scoop up the rubble, raised it to his face – and then bit down into it with a horrifying cracking sound. Rock splintered and broke and pebbles rained from its mighty jaws as it chewed. The noise was unbearable, like a bucket of stones thrown into a wood chipper. The occasional shattering of dust also punctuated the air like glass thrown against a wall.

"Why would it be eating the rock!?" Ren whispered. When Jaune didn't hear him, he repeated the question louder – almost having to shout it. The noise was that horrific.

"I don't know. The only time I've seen animals eat rocks was-"

Whatever it was, Mouk drowned it out with noise. Ren watched as Mouk finished his first handful of rock and rubble and reached in for another. It searched around again, and he could imagine the beast's claws carving great chunks of stone free. When it came back, yet again Ren saw the tell-tale shimmer of dust among the stone.

Was that the secret to Mouk's incredible size and strength? Had it ingested dust alongside the rocks it ate, and that had somehow reacted to make it grow and grow? Studies on dust did to people had yielded nothing long-term, but there was no telling if Grimm was the same. It made a twisted amount of sense, even if the reason as to why it ate dust and rock did not. Or was it-

"The carvings!" Ren gasped.

Jaune glanced his way. "Huh?"

"The carvings, Jaune. Your legend! The Ursa that ate the moon. Don't you see?" It was obvious he didn't, so Ren continued. "Your legend said the Ursa grew large enough to eat the moon, but that wasn't it at all! That cave we were just in had dust in the ceiling, remember? If that sparkled like the moon and stars, then a Grimm eating it would be considered the same. Mouk didn't literally eat the moon; he feasted on the dust the people here called their night sky. Maybe he was even the one responsible for wiping them out!"

He could imagine it easily, and the earlier cave they had been in explained it well. Mouk must have been 'just' a large Ursa once, and he chased people into the caves but couldn't fit through the final tunnels into their home. He set up outside instead, in the previous chamber they'd been in and this one. For whatever reason he started to eat dust, growing too large to leave by the same route he had come in, and yet also unable to kill the humans inside.

Maybe the reason why the monster had been able to reach its size wasn't indolence or foolishness on the Kingdom's parts at all. Maybe it had simply gone underground as a tiny Ursa, and then ingested so much dust that it grew and grew, unchallenged and impervious from harm, until it had grown so large that it could burst its way out of the mountain on its own. Like a caterpillar to a butterfly, Mouk had made the mountain his chrysalis.

Wait… what if there were more Grimm like Mouk? How many other lost or buried Grimm had survived untold aeons, just waiting to break free? Grimm got smarter and stronger with time, but if Remnant was covered in titans just waiting to grow large enough to break free of Remnant's crust...

Or escape its oceans, or leave the lost lands, or simply be found in forgotten corners of the Kingdoms...

The thought was dizzying. He almost felt ill. That sort of menace, just waiting to wreak havoc upon the world? He felt like a man who had just discovered the apocalypse, and the worst part was that he knew no else one would ever believe him.

A hand tugged on his shoulder.

"What!?" he snapped.

"Shh!" Jaune held a finger to his lips, reminding Ren of the situation. The hunter pointed to the side. "Let's go now, while he's distracted."

"Now? We could wait until he leaves."

"He might not. Most animals sleep after eating to better digest their food. No telling how long that takes him but we don't want to be trapped in here for days and days."

"Won't he have to leave to defecate?" Ren asked.

Jaune snorted. "What do you think we just laid on for the last few hours?"

Ren froze again as a different sort of revulsion wracked him. Rock, rubble, chipped dust and discarded weapons, all of it ground into a fine paste and mounted in an oddly-shaped pile by the cave wall. A rock pile, with ground dust, like the sort that must pass out of Mouk eventually...

Ren's face twisted in displeasure and he pushed himself a little further off the… off the dung. He'd had his face pressed against it. Gods, he'd rooted around in it.

Gods, Jaune was wearing something that had been in it for goddess knows how long! And he'd known!

At least that explained why there had been weapons and tools in it. Mouk's prey, no doubt, and forgotten fighters who'd tried to slay the beast. It might have even been the reason the monster was eating rock in the first place. A blade or piece of armor must irritate the stomach. Maybe Mouk had hoped to use the rubble to fill his stomach and aid digestion of large material – material like the metal blade or bizarre bracer they'd found earlier.

At least something made sense, even if he'd have been just as glad for it not to.

"Right," he said, fighting back nausea. "Lead the way."

Jaune slowly shifted his body to the left, in the opposite direction from Mouk. The two of them shimmied across the pile of dry dung, keeping flat against it in order to increase their surface area and reduce the risk of a landslide. Jaune reached the ground first and paused. Mouk was still loudly grasping away inside the tunnel.

" _Now_ ," Jaune mouthed, and Ren nodded, landing beside him and concentrating on keeping his footsteps silent. He extended his Semblance at the same time, using it to shield them both. There was but two hundred metres to the exit, a huge hole gouged out of the rock face, no doubt where Mouk had erupted from untold years ago, perhaps even centuries. They made their way slowly towards it, caution over haste as Jaune led the way, pausing for the two to hide every time Mouk brought back his monstrous paw and began to eat.

At one point the monster shuffled away – and Ren dreaded that it might come and find them. Luckily it paused at a back wall, pushing its rear against it and letting out the most terrible noise. It was echoed by growls and pained grunts from the giant monster.

Passing rock, dust, and whatever else he'd eaten sounded as painful as one might have imagined. Once Mouk was done with the unsavoury task he used his hind legs to push it into a pile against the wall, creating another mound of rock and material, before he moved back to the tunnel and began to reach for more. It was their chance to move again.

Ren's foot caught something not a hundred and fifty metres from the exit. His ankle twisted, and he fell hard, just managing to bite back a cry. He fell to one knee, teeth gritted.

"You okay?" Jaune hissed, rushing back.

"My ankle…" Ren reached down and picked up the offending object that had tripped him. It was round and metal, and as he turned it to face him his eyes widened. It was a charred Bullhead pilot's helmet. Not his pilot's, but some other unfortunate soul. He dropped it in shock, though luckily Jaune was fast enough to catch it.

Not the object that slipped out, however. The skull, stripped clean of flesh and partially digested, cracked onto the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.

The grinding sound of tooth and rock paused ominously.

Jaune dragged him back up. He didn't have to shout 'Run.'

Mouk roared from behind them, turning and scratching its claws against rock as it tried to propel itself towards them. Ren hadn't even realized he'd dropped his semblance, taking what energy he could and using it to ignore the throbbing pain in his ankle as he staggered for the exit. He didn't dare look behind. He could hear the monster's approach – not running, but rather using its paws to drag itself through the too-small cave.

Something struck his shoulder from behind and pushed him down. Jaune pressed a hand over his mouth and kicked the two of them behind some rock, hoping to lose the beast as it hunted them. The giant shadow passed over them, and then by, and Ren watched in horror as Mouk shifted its frame in such a way as to block the exit entirely. It was a Grimm that had grown old; intelligent. It knew what they wanted and knew how to prevent their escape.

There was no way it would leave now. It would keep them trapped here as long as it needed.

"Start a fire," Jaune whispered. "I'll distract it."

"Are you crazy?"

"Crazy, desperate, it's all the same at this point. We don't have a choice anymore." Jaune ducked out and drew his bow, nocking an arrow and drawing the string back. "Oi!" he yelled. "Come on, you big bastard. I'm over here!" He loosed the arrow. It plinked uselessly off Mouk's snout.

The beast roared with more fury than such a nuisance warranted. It shifted, keeping its hind legs out the entrance, and lunged forwards with its forepaws, stretching out to reach the hunter. Jaune dashed back, staggering over the uneven terrain. Even then he barely escaped, the claws sailing by less than a metre from his body – what seemed so small a distance when Mouk's size was taken into account.

But there was no time for panic. Ignoring the pain from his injured leg Ren dug into his pack and brought forth one of his remaining flares and what little tinder he had. There wasn't the time to start a proper fire, but he was able to pop off the top off the flare. It sparked to life when he struck it and he held it against the wood, hoping against hope that it would take.

It didn't. Falling into the underground water must have soaked it.

 _Please_ , he begged, trying again. The flare was bright, loud and an angry shade of red, but the sparks were just that and the wood was heavy and damp. He tried again, panic mounting as Jaune continued to dance with Mouk. The heat warmed his face. The sparks burned his hands. In a final attempt he shoved the flare into a hollow and blew into it, trapping the heat as best he could. _Come on, please. We need this!_

"Hurry!" Jaune screamed.

A little bit of smoke wafted out. Ren blew on it, nurtured it. It sizzled. Mouk roared and slammed a paw down. Jaune howled out as a rock clipped him. Ren blew again, harder.

With a fading sizzle, the flare spluttered and died.

"No… No, no, no!"

He threw aside the used canister, searching for another. His hands brushed against metal, plastic, wood, but no flares. It had been the final one. They were left with just flint and steel, which Jaune had currently.

"We need fire!" Jaune shouted. He ducked over a pile of rock and slid down the other side, before the entire thing disappeared in an explosion, Mouk's paw tearing through it. The hunter was lifted with it, along with several tones of loose rock that pelted against his body. "Arghh!"

"It's not working," Ren yelled.

"Then do _something_!"

Something? Against Mouk? He was already injured but even had he not been his knives wouldn't have been able to do anything more than prune the beast. The exit was blocked. They were trapped. The only escape would be the tunnel, but Mouk had one paw covering it. Ren slammed a fist down against the ground and dragged himself to his feet, leaning on a pile of rock-dung to stay upright.

A sharp pain bit into his hand and he drew it back, wincing. He hadn't reinforced his hand with aura so a tiny amount of blood dripped free, and was also stained over the red crystal he'd cut himself on.

A red dust crystal.

Ren lunged for it, ignoring the pain and digging both hands into the rubble until he could grip the crystal and pull it free. It was about the width of a fist and a foot long. It was red, and not just from his blood. Dust crystals aren't as good as ground dust, he recalled Jaune saying. It needs something more to cause a reaction.

It needed refining, turning to a purpose, but failing that even industrial dust could be set off if you it had the right reaction, if it was introduced to the right catalyst.

Jaune cried out as more rock battered him. Unlike Ren, he had no aura to protect him, and red started to flow down his face. He'd managed to escape the monster's claws but that meant little when every sweep sent an avalanche of rock, dust, and discarded weaponry through the air. His trousers were tattered and ripped, and blood ran from a hundred tiny cuts and scrapes. He rolled on the floor to try and avoid the next blow. It came down behind, missing but kicking up enough air to lift him from his feet.

Jaune barely had the presence of mind to keep hold of his bow. He landed on one shoulder, rolled, nocked a stone arrow and loosed it in the vague direction of Mouk's eye. A paw came up to block it and the arrow snapped on the monster's thick skin. It wrenched the paw away and screamed its fury at him, blasting the hunter away with sheer force of air alone. His back slammed into a rock. His head hit it too. He slumped to the base, dazed, as Mouk dragged its body towards him.

A new figure leapt between the two, pink eyes and black hair, along with a long red crystal wielded like a baton in one hand, Stormflower in the other. Ren's chest rose and fell as he faced down the giant head and shoulders. The sudden appearance was enough to make Mouk stop, but only for a second. The Grimm snarled and reached out toward him.

Ren placed the barrel of his gun against the raw crystal.

Stormflower barked. The crystal shattered. Dust rushed through it, dust from his bullet – finely refined and processed into something that spat fire and death. That self-same dust shot through the cracks in the larger crystal, burning and reacting as the heat boiled it from the inside in an instant. There was a bright flash of light, red and angry – angrier than even Mouk's single eye. A second later, the world was engulfed in flames.

The force blasted Ren from his feet and hurled him back into the wall. The crystal – what was left of it – fell from his fingers, and Stormflower fell too, clattering under him as he landed with a pained cry. His hand burned, the skin feeling like it had melted off entirely. He ignored the pain and pushed himself up onto hands and knees.

The cave was on fire.

Nothing in it was flammable, at least not be the conventional sense, but flames raced around fuelled by dust itself, and as each reached piles of rock and more dust they grew and grew, some exploding from the sheer heat. Stones fell like rain on their heads, shot through the giant cave like shrapnel from the world's largest grenade. One pinged off Ren's face as he stood, drawing blood. He gripped it with one hand, stooped for Stormflower, and staggered over to reach Jaune.

The hunter stirred when he shook him. "Jaune," he hissed. "Please Jaune, you need to wake up." Nothing. Frustration over took him, and he shook harder. "Wake up!"

"J-Je-" The boy's eyes groggily opened, then raced the rest of the way. "Ren?"

Through blood, soot, and ash, Ren gave a relieved smile. "You asked for fire. I delivered."

Too much so, one might say. He knew that as he dragged Jaune up. The smoke from it had nowhere to go, trapped between Mouk's bulk and the cave walls, some rushing through the tunnel but not enough. Much of it pooled on the ceiling, a slowly lowering veil of death that might suffocate them, if Mouk didn't kill them first.

Not that the giant monster had the attention for it. Mouk thrashed and howled as rubble and dung piles exploded, spreading fire further. His fur was on fire, his face on fire, his snout and his paws and much of his shoulders. The crystal had exploded outwards in a mighty wave, washing over both him and Mouk, though he'd had his aura to protect him. Mouk hadn't been so fortunate, and stuck as he was in the cave his face paid the price. Mouk's howls were desperate, even as they themselves threatened to deafen the boys.

Another explosion to their left cut such thoughts off, more rock hurtling by as another refuge pile exploded when heated. Mouk kicked out with both feet at the noise, shaking the cave and causing more dust to fall from the ceiling. In an attempt to escape, it brought its legs inside, trying to turn so it could crawl out – and for a moment exposing the exit.

"Now!" Jaune gasped, staggering out of Ren's grip. "This is our chance!"

They staggered across the distance as Mouk thrashed and kicked to try and put out the fire. The smoke had started to billow out now, and would surely attract more Grimm, not giving them much chance to get out – if they even knew where `out` was. Ren focused on his breathing, on his aura, on ignoring the pain from his leg.

A shadow pooled under him. He pushed Jaune out of the way and dove in the opposite direction. One of Mouk's paws crashed down a second later, splintering rock and kicking up dust. It was followed by a second, not by intent but by Mouk's own panic and anger. The monster hurtled by, no doubt intending to rush out of the cave and to a place where there were no flames to harm it. On all fours it hurled itself at the entrance.

The entire mountain shook as it cracked into the stone above, its frame too large to easily fit through. It must have been a tight squeeze years ago but constant growth from eating dust had only made it worse. In a more normal state of mind it might have been able to shimmy through, but Jaune and Ren were thrown from their feet as it reared back and slammed into the entrance again, trying to widen it with its own body, paying no attention to anything but its desperate desire to get outside. A third time it crashed into it, and this time the rock face began to give way, though not in the direction it would have liked.

The two of them could only watch in horror as an avalanche of rock poured down over the entrance, sealing it shut, sealing them inside with Mouk and the flames and the smoke.

They were trapped.

"Damn idiot!" Jaune snarled, and for a second Ren thought the hunter meant him, before Jaune nocked another arrow and sent it sailing into Mouk's face. "You bloody fool! You've buried us all under the Lunar Tears, you bastard! You happy!?"

Mouk didn't look it, then again it didn't seem to even register them anymore. Some smoke brushed over Ren's face and he hacked and coughed, fighting to breathe past the acrid taste. They were going to be crushed by Mouk, burned to death, or be forced to suffocate. There were no other options now. He reached down and brought out his weapons, prepared to sell his life dearly.

Jaune stared at him like he was a madman, even as Ren reached out for him.

"I've heard it said a man can't choose the time of his passing," Ren recalled. "Only the manner in which he does. I won't say it's been good because we both know that would be a lie, but still. If I have to die out here, for what it's worth… thank you for sticking with me."

Jaune stared at him, wide-eyed and confused.

"You're mad," Jaune breathed. He took one look at the guns, then Mouk, and finally the fire surrounding them. "Damn it all," he hissed, nocking another arrow, one of his last. "You're not the kind of person I'd ever expected to die alongside, but… you weren't a bad sort."

"For a Huntsman?" Ren finished, a sardonic smile on his lips.

"For a city-boy," the hunter countered, disagreeable to the last. "You ready?"

For death? No. He'd never really considered it before, and in a way, he'd wondered if he could even feel fear, in part thanks to his Semblance but also the things he'd seen, the loss of his father, his village, and everything he loved. He did feel it, though. His hands shook and his heart beat like a drum. Still, he nodded. It was time to do what true Huntsmen did when their backs were to the wall- kill Grimm or die trying.

Mouk's eye blazed between the smoke and smog, glinting like a ruby set in a sea of black. The beast realised its fate, its prison, and now looked determined to take them down with it – as they were to do the same. They were two parties doomed to death with not even the promise of escape should the other die. And yet they would both seek it, if only out of hate.

No. Not hate. Grimm hated. Ren... Ren was too tired for anything so heavy.

Ren dove left as the monster lunged for them. He rolled hard, strafed three shots across the beast's flaming snout and then lunged for the cover of some rocks, wincing as a paw sheared through the rock above him, tearing it away with a might crack. He stood behind it, firing again and again. Mouk stomped forwards, directly under a glimmer of light in the ceiling. Ren shot it out. The crystal exploded, showering more fire down onto the titanic Ursa.

Something else touched the left side of Mouk's snout, bursting into a bright flash and a mighty clap that blew the smoke away. The flash bang arrow - _Jaune still had one? -_ did little to harm it but the bright light seared into Mouk's eye, blinding him temporarily and giving Ren a chance to relocate, even as a paw slammed down on the position he'd been stood in, reducing everything to rubble. It flailed again in search for him, but Ren ducked low and rushed toward the creature's body where it least expected. He dug his blades into the skin on the underside of its paw.

They flexed and almost snapped. The skin was too leathery and too thick, but maybe Jaune was right when he said Ursa had good senses of touch. Mouk certainly reacted like he felt it. Ren leapt back and rolled past its hind-leg, slipping away as it swatted down at its feet. A wall of flames confronted him, singing his hair. He ducked back and looked through them. Jaune was stood on an outcropping of rock. He was trying to open his quiver, the ammo fabricator.

Ren dashed through the flames with his hands over his face. They lapped and burned at him and he had to roll as he landed to put out some smouldering parts of cloth. He staggered over to Jaune, one eye on Mouk as it kicked out with both legs at the wall Ren had just been at, cracking through it and causing a slide of rock to cover the entire area.

"I'm out of arrows," Jaune said, noticing him. "Trying to – damn it – see if it's ready for another." He had a hold of the dagger from earlier and was using to try and pry open the quiver. By the looks of it, the fabricator didn't think it was ready. They didn't have the time to wait.

"Mouk's hide is too thick," Ren reported while he could.

"I know." Jaune grunted. The fabricator ceased its whirr. "Damn thing is near enough invulnerable as it is. The only thing that ever pushed it back was fire." He shot Ren a look. "How did you set that dust off?"

"Heat and sparks. I shot a round into it – discharging the dust and causing a reaction with my dust ammo. I remembered that story about you throwing some into a fire and recreated it."

"Heh, guess you do pay attention." Jaune reached down as the fabricator opened up, releasing a single shaft of impure steel. Even the flights were metal, and he knew it wouldn't fly far or accurate. Luckily that wasn't a big deal in so confined a space. "I've got an idea," the hunter said, gasping in the smoke. "One idea, one arrow, and one shot. Want to hear it?"

Ren smirked. "Surprise me. Just tell me what you need me to do."

"Distract it."

"I had a feeling it would be that…" Ren sighed and dashed back off the outcrop, rushing to the right and firing two quick shots off towards Mouk's eye. The gun in his left hand clicked on the second, running dry. The weight of the right suggested there wasn't much left. He paused to take aim, making a target of himself as he took careful aim and fired.

The shot pinged off the top of Mouk's brow, actually bouncing down into the eye. There was a sickening squelch as it disappeared into the organ, but to Ren's surprise the monster ignored it. Well, survived it. The way Mouk howled certainly suggested he'd felt it.

The crimson orb locked onto him immediately. Mouk's teeth, sharp and pitted from chewing through rock, were bared in the smoke-filled cave. Each tooth was bigger than he was, easily topping two metres.

"You're certainly an ugly one," Ren shouted, trying to keep its attention even as it dominated his. It was the first time he'd seen the beast up close. "I can see why so many huntsmen and huntresses fell to you! But I'm different!"

The head lowered towards him. Ren's glanced left and right, and realised he was trapped between a wall of fire several feet thick and Mouk's paw. There was no escape, and Mouk's mouth opened in preparation to tear into him. Ren took a deep breath and prepared himself for the end.

"I am not afraid!"

It turned its head to devour him whole.

"MOUK!"

The furious scream cut through the cave, freezing the beast in its tracks. Whether it could recognise the name – its own – or whether it reacted to the anger, Ren didn't know. Its snout slowly turned to the left, however, to where a figure stood on the other side of a roaring inferno, bow stretched before him and an arrow nocked to it. The shaft was silver in colour, but the head was red as crystal. Jaune's didn't just hold his bow steady but expanded it. A slight shift, a little jolt- that was all it took for Jaune's short-bow to expand to a long-bow almost as tall as he. With a mighty force, Jaune pulled the taught string further, waiting for the moment as his bracer shined in the crackling flames.

"FOR EVERY SOUL YOU HAVE DEVOURED, AND EVERY LAST VILLAGE YOU RUINED, AND FOR EVERY TIME YOU MADE ANYONE SNEAK ACROSS YOUR GODS FORSAKEN HUNTING GROUNDS, I'VE GOT TWO WORDS, DUKE!" Jaune screamed, voice raw with emotion and smoke.

The moment Mouk's face passed in front of him, Jaune was prepared to release the shaft.

"EAT THIS!"

The sound of the bowstring against Jaune's silver bracer was loud enough. The arrow itself shot from the bow like a missile, propelled through the fire – where the red crystals strapped about the shaft heated and sparked, shining bright red. The shot was true, short-range and aimed at a target ten times the size of a normal archery one. The steel tip plunged into Mouk's eye, though like Ren's bullet earlier it didn't do enough to actually destroy the over-sized organ.

It didn't have to. The dust exploded a second later – lashing fire out across the cornea and bursting back into the eye itself, splashing blood and other goo out onto the floor. Mouk screamed. The eye closed.

It would never open again.

It would have killed any other creature but Mouk wouldn't have it; too large, too powerful, or perhaps too scared to die, as fire wracked its face. Like the injury that had claimed its first, the fire had robbed it of vision, justifying its fear even as flames crawled up its legs. Dust crystals sparked and cracked, their energy only giving fuel to the flames. Fire rose, as the smoke of its own fur cinders began to choke its face.

Mouk reared back and up, striking the cave ceiling with its mask and slamming out both paws, catching the walls and causing them to crumble. Each time the ceiling stopped it and sent it back down towards the flames on the ground, the massive beast rose again harder, practically bucking itself inside the cave. The cave itself began to give way, huge chunks falling from the ceiling to explode on the ground as Mouk screamed. With a thunderous crash, the wall exploded up outward.

The titan broke through the mountain. And then he ran away, stumbling blindly through the forest outside, screaming as flames chased it. Some were those that caught on the trees. Others it would never outrun so long as it kept its hide. Behind it, the smoke from its own searing flesh rose into the sky, over the Lunar Cry Mountains and up to the sky... All the way to where a cracked crescent moon hovered overhead, watching all that transpired.

Ren saw the moon, and the blind and terrified Ursa's flight, when he stumbled up the pile of rubble out of the cave. So too did Jaune, right beside him. The two were leaning against each other but gasping in relief as they took in the fresh air they could. Survival was sweet indeed.

"Is it over?" Ren gasped, finally able to speak again.

"I... I don't think Mouk is going to bother us anymore," Jaune said, watching the same sight as him. In the distance, trees toppled with abandon, and birds flew around the moving mountain. Some of those birds were nevermore, just as curious as they followed the unfathomable sight. The screams of the blind bear could still be heard, even as it entered the distance.

"And it looks like he's taking his host with him too. I think we're good for the moment," he said, even plopping down on the stone with him. With his and Ren's bags behind them- grabbed as they'd fled the burning cavern- he looked in no hurry to move.

"Finally," Ren gasped, dropping his guard for a moment too. Right now... right now, not worrying felt good. It was all he had energy for, even as he closed his eyes and felt...

"Is that... the sun?" he asked, cracking his eyes open again. Indeed, it was - just cresting the mountain range to the east, the Lunar Cry mountains cast great shadowy tears over the foot hills and valleys to their west. They might, if you looked just right, be seen as something like tear-stains- especially with the mountain streams that flowed towards the valleys that lay beneath. Mountains that framed the moon, and the rivers of tears that flowed through Mouk's valleys...

They seemed drier, now. Less wet than they had before.

"It stopped raining," Jaune noted, stating the obvious. They wouldn't be able to see the sun or moon were the sky still cloud-covered. "The worst of the monsoon must be passed. It should be scattered showers from here on out."

"Finally," Ren repeated, glad to hear that as well. His clothes, still damp, weighed down his weary bones. Weary as he was, he was still wary, and watched the evidence of Mouk's retreat.

"Did we win?" he wondered. "Mouk's still out there. I don't think even fire can kill him. He may be blind, but we're still in his domain. There's still the other Grimm," he recognized.

"But he's not a threat to us, or anyone else, any longer. That's just as good. Take your victories where you can, Huntsman," Jaune advised. "We survived. Out here, out in the Grimmlands, that's enough. You keep going, you keep moving forward, and if you're strong or wise enough you live to see another day." He raised his head to watch the sun rise. "Another dawn…"

Ren stared at it, too, this time looking away from where they'd come from and towards where they'd go.

It was beautiful.

If they'd passed the foothills and river-valleys before, they'd reached a gently sloping plateau that led to the mountains themselves. The soft shadows covered gentle hills and flatter forests, reaching out to the distant mountains with a gentle slope and interspersed with long rivers. In the distance, at the base of the mountains, Ren could even make out a lake- one shaped like a curious tear that no doubt drained into the valleys behind them. It was far less hilly than where they'd come from, and the shallow mountains behind them had dispersed entirely. They'd passed through rather than over them, skipping the climb entirely.

It was amazing to see what they'd passed these last many days. It was welcoming to see what they had ahead. With the moon hanging above, watching over them, dawn had never felt so wonderful. It was both beautiful, and a reminder that they were still alive. He was still alive. They'd survived, lived to fight another day, and enjoy the struggles that came with it.

"Are we safe yet?" Ren asked. "If Mouk's no longer a threat... are we out of the Grimmlands?"

Jaune laughed again, but not as mocking as he might have.

"Not quite, city-boy. What we just came from, what Mouk's domain was, that was the Grimmlands with an Overlord. The sort no Kingdom could conquer, and even Huntsman have to tread carefully."

Ren's heart fell. "Then this…?"

Jaune nodded.

"This is the Grimmlands where there's simply no one else to contest."

"Welcome to the Old Frontier. Population: Two."

* * *

 **End of Mouk Arc.**

 **And... that's a wrap. A climatic battle inside a mountain against a mountain-sized bear, courtesy of Coeur. With fire, flares, and enough explosions for a Michael Bay movie. Who said this romp through the woods would be realistically boring?**

 **Kudos to Coeur to writing this after a lot of real-life busyness, and especially for doings on vague directions. Not every idea could be fit in as intended... but you know what? That's fine. Better than fine- because Coeur was able to make what he could work. Not everything can get narrative dropped to the extreme. Some things... will just be able to be looked at later, as they should.**

 **For now, our boys are exhausted but alive, and with their next destination in sight. It should be safer... but are they out of the woods yet?**

 **Of course not. But what could possibly be lurking in woods near Lake Tear?**

 **/**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 3rd March**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	13. Chapter 13

**General Notes: Welcome back to a rare moment of interim transition in our story.**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

* * *

The two of them set up camp at a small trickle of water that might have later fed into a river but at this point was more of a spring. As ever, Jaune acted it as if he knew the area by heart, though Ren had long since suspected it was just an earned confidence the man moved with rather than any prior knowledge. That confidence was a little dented by exhaustion, though, and Ren let out his own sigh of relief when Jaune declared the spot perfect for their needs.

Neither of them rushed to actually build the camp and for once the hunter didn't suggest it. Instead they both draped themselves on the cool grass and stared at the sun slowly rising into the morning sky. A part of him wanted to savour it. Another part simply wished it was setting in the west, because he wanted to sleep so very badly. Preferably, it would be a slumber uninterrupted by spiders the size of dogs that wanted to eat them.

"How are we doing this?" Ren asked after a minute or two of soft relief. They'd slept in a cave and fought in the mountains. Damp grass had never felt so wonderful.

"We'll take a few hours rest and a half-day walk. I want to sleep as much as you, but we'll only run into trouble if we sleep all day."

"Sounds fair." Funny how six or seven hours might have sounded horrifying before. Now, it was considered a short jaunt. The promise of a full night's sleep at the end was the reward. "Is it safe to fall asleep here?"

"As safe as anywhere" Jaune asked, grumbling as he sat up. "I'll set some traps up, but it'll have to do. I don't think either of us can really stand guard. We should eat before we sleep, though."

The cue was obvious, and Ren groaned but acknowledged it, forcing himself up and towards his pack. At least the little babbling creak not four feet away would make collecting water an easy task. Food, though...

He pawed through his pack, too tired to be frantic, until his fingers grasped the last of what he was looking for. The last of the little emergency ration bars, a mere one each. He held them for Jaune to see.

"Last I have," he informed, even as he offered one.

Jaune frowned, as if thinking, but eventually nodded and reached forward to accept. "I'd rather not, but we don't have any more game to eat instead. I'll try to find something by this evening," he promised, before accepting Ren's meagre offer to share.

The prospect of a single energy bar being the only thing until this evening was uninspiring, even inadequate considering what they'd just been through. Tired as he was now, Ren knew even he would be famished soon. But Jaune wasn't complaining, so he shouldn't, and so he consumed his tasteless ration without any real relish. It tasted like... not much, really, and too late Ren wondered if it might have been helped by a dust flake.

Jaune, his bar finished, rose and walked to the nearby creek. The hunter then stooped down to dip his hands into the water and splash some into his face. It looked so relieving that Ren did the same, leaving the food to boil as he washed the grime, soot, and ash from his skin.

"Nothing like ice-cold water straight from the mountains," Jaune said, chuckling. "I'd take a dip in a cool river to a hot shower any day."

"I'll stick to my comforts, thank you."

"You're missing out, city-boy."

"Hm, whatever you say, Jaune." Ren splashed a little more against his face as the hunter laughed, and then removed his shirt and jacket before splashing water on his chest and arms as well. It was a meagre cleansing, but the first since his unsought soak falling underneath the mountain. Even with Jaune beside him, still drinking upstream, he didn't find himself as bothered by the nakedness as he had been before. After what they'd been through, a little skin hardly seemed a big issue. "Maybe if this was deeper we could actually have a bath."

"The best place is a lake upstream, Lake Tear. You might have seen it. This area has a lot of rivers and small streams running from it. We'll probably have a chance to bathe later." Even so, Ren did so now, despite cringing slightly at how cool it was.

"It sounds like you know the area well," he remarked.

"Well enough. I've been out here way before."

"You called it the Old Frontier. How long ago was that?"

"Long enough," Jaune snapped. "Any other questions?"

"I didn't mean anything," Ren said, holding a hand out to placate the hunter. "I just don't know anything about the frontier, after all. There's no need to get angry."

"I'm not-" the hunter bit off with a growl and looked away. He continued after a second, and in a slightly less irritated voice. "This place used to be safe enough. Mouk stayed down in the valleys, and Lake Tear is far enough away uphill that he didn't bother coming this far. Vale used to send huntsmen every so often to purge the Grimm and push the frontier back. Lake Tear used to be the Edge of the north-west, but without the dust - a little pocket of people between the barrier mountain's and Mouk's domain."

The hunter sighed and washed some grime from his golden hair. "Sooner or later it all comes back, though. The Grimm always reclaim what's theirs."

"And the people…?"

"Dead or gone. Usual fate of towns on the frontier. They had enough time to evacuate... eventually. Maybe one day they'll return and call it the same thing. Doesn't have the dust of Edge, but villages can be rebuilt."

Ren understood. It was a curious notion and one he hadn't considered before, but the Kingdoms really did seem to place an unusual amount of emphasis on locations and not people. That was likely something to do with the main cities being immobile fortresses, wherein the loss of a single city would be a devastating blow to Remnant as a whole. On the other hand, the people of Edge could have relocated relatively easily if the Grimm moved to attack them.

It was almost like an ocean coming and going, the receding flow of the waves a metaphor for the people here, who didn't fight against inevitability but rather came to live in tandem with nature. Well, if one could consider Grimm a part of nature. Few did.

Whatever the case, it was time for a well-earned rest for them. Ren draped his clothing out on a tree-limb to dry and moved to help Jaune set up a rudimentary camp. As he did, he spared a thought for everyone else back in Beacon and wondered how they were coping.

/-/

Nora's mind was groggy as she woke, muddled and fuzzy in a way that didn't feel natural. Her mouth was dry and felt like a sock had been pushed into it, but she realised it was her tongue. It felt swollen and too big for her own mouth. The sensation confused her. She rolled over, searching for answers, and the one she knew would have them... until she remembered not to.

But Ren wasn't in the room. He wasn't here anymore.

Tears prickled at her eyes. She didn't know how many times she'd woken up since he'd left her, but this was the first time she'd turned over and not been surprised by his absence. Before, there had always been shock and confusion, mixed with a tiny amount of hope.

Now, there was just nothing. Ren wasn't here.

"Nora?" Someone else came into her vision, hesitating for a second before kneeling down to place a hand on her shoulder. The hand was soft and warm, but unmistakeably not his. "Nora, it's me, Pyrrha. Are you okay?"

She tried to speak. Her voice failed.

"That was a stupid question," Pyrrha said, sighing. "Of course you're not okay. None of us are. I'm sorry. Do you… do you want something to drink? I can get you some water, or maybe something stronger."

"W-Wa…" She couldn't finish it.

Luckily, she didn't have to. "Water," Pyrrha nodded, quickly standing. She rushed over to an adjoining room and disappeared into it. A tap began to run.

Nora took the moment to look about the room she was in. She didn't recognise it, which was odd because she could tell from how she smelled that she'd been here for a while. All she could remember was crying, screaming, and shouting, most of it hers.

A flash of pain shot through her as she remembered the case. Even so, it was more a dull ache. She hated that. Ren was gone. Abandoned How dare her heart only ache! She needed him. Didn't it understand? Where was the raw grief and the agony? Where were the tears and the sobs? They were still there, beneath the surface. She just felt too tired to muster them.

"Here you go," Pyrrha returned, placing one arm beneath her head to lift her up and pushing a glass into her hands with the other. She didn't let go, no doubt knowing Nora's strength might fail at any moment.

The water was cool and clear. It eased her pained throat and somehow made her tongue feel less like someone else's. She guzzled until she couldn't take anymore, and some water spilled down her chin. Pyrrha pulled the glass away with a swift apology.

"Everyone…"

Pyrrha leaned forward. "Yes?"

"What is… everyone doing…?"

"Dealing," Pyrrha said. "There's not much else we can do. "Team RWBY are in the dumps but they're trying to help around as they can. Their guide was badly hurt. Ruby's Uncle came by to check up on everyone and she's with him. Cardin and his lot… I don't know. I know they're blaming themselves for this. I think they're trying to stay out of our way out of shame. Je-"

"Not that," Nora growled. "Why… why are they not trying to find Ren?"

Pyrrha paused to consider the question carefully, or more likely she was trying to find the right answer. That was enough for Nora to know the truth.

"Nothing," she said, too sullen to be called a snap. "You're doing nothing."

"Nora, it's not-"

"No? Ren is out there. My Renny. Your teammate! Why aren't you doing anything? If Ruby's huntsman uncle is here, then why isn't he going out there to save Ren!?"

"Because it's not that simple."

"It is! It – hck – it is that simple! Ren is out there, alone, and no one wants to do anything about it! No one but me even cares! You don't even care if he dies, after all it's not like it was _your_ partner who-!"

Nora's face whipped to the side. It took her a second to realise Pyrrha had slapped her. When she looked back, it was to see Pyrrha's hand still raised, and a conflicted look of fear and hurt and maybe even anger on her face.

"Don't say that," Pyrrha whispered, in a tone she'd never heard from the girl before. "I… Ren is my teammate. He's my friend too. I've never had real friends before, and I've never wanted to lose one. He might not have meant to me what he meant to you, but I still care. We all do. That's why Team RWBY came out here, Nora. Don't say we don't care, Nora. Some of them nearly died trying to save him." Not Pyrrha herself, but others. Team RWBY. Even Team CRDL.

Tears gathered in Nora's eyes. Despite her stinging rebuke a moment ago, Pyrrha quickly moved to embrace her.

"They should have brought me with them!" Nora cried into Pyrrha's chest. "They should have taken us! Why didn't we go!?"

"Because we were compromised," Pyrrha answered, stroking her hair. "Because we cared too much. Because the Headmaster said the three of us wouldn't be level-headed in the Grimmlands." It was a reminder of things they'd been told before, but that hardly mattered now.

"We still should have gone," Nora protested, weakly, with a sniffle. "I could have joined Team RWBY. I could have helped them fight the Grimm! I wouldn't have given up the moment things got bad!"

Pyrrha stroked her head and looked at her sadly. "Maybe that was what he was afraid of."

Nora froze in her arms. "What?"

"Maybe it's the fact you wouldn't have given up that he was afraid of. That you wouldn't have given up until Ren was saved or you and everyone else was dead. Maybe he was afraid of losing entire teams, and not just a student."

"That's not- that's not what I meant-"

Pyrrha believed her. "I know, Nora," she whispered. "But it's not what you mean that matters. It's what you feel. You heard what the Headmaster said. The Grimm sense negativity. If we'd gone into the Grimmlands filled with fear- not for ourselves, but for Ren-" It was as the old Huntsman had said.

In the Grimmlands, fear was death. That fear didn't have to be for yourself.

"I would have found him," Nora insisted, weak and pleading as it was. "I would have saved him..."

"Would you?" Pyrrha asked, not un-gently. "Or would we have lost you too?"

"Who cares?" Nora moaned, leaning into Pyrrha's chest. "At least he wouldn't be alone, then. At least he wouldn't be afraid." A hiccup, and then a fading murmur.

"Ren hated being alone..."

Pyrrha said nothing to that- couldn't think of anything to so- and so she didn't she simply held Nora, who let herself be held. For a time, there was a simple mournful silence as Nora's breathing steadied.

And then a knock came from the door, as someone softly- hesitantly? - wrapped one's knuckles on the other side.

"Pyrrha?" came a familiar voice from the other side, soft enough to not be heard by the sleeping. "It's me. Is she... is Nora up yet?"

A sudden curling of fingers on flesh- hard enough to hurt- roved to Pyrrha that Nora was indeed still awake.

"Her fault," Nora hissed, eyes that had softened for Pyrrha hardening once more. "It's her fault. Ren wouldn't have left were it not for her, that-"

Pyrrha's sigh covered Nora's whisper, even as she braced herself for what was to come, as the door handle twisted, and the door slowly opened...

/-/

Yang held the small white canister before her eyes and read the label on the back. It was covered in information she didn't understand, which raised the question of why she'd thought looking in the first place would be a good idea. Undaunted, she brought it down and fixed the shopkeeper with a stern expression.

"These are the best you have?"

"It's the strongest medicine by far," Mr Mann said. "Those aren't easy to come by."

"It's Middivale," Yang pointed out. "They're available in every pharmacy."

"Does this look like a pharmacy?" Mr Mann asked. "Blame bandits or Grimm or whatever else you want, but shipments don't come here that often. When SDC flies stuff in, it's priorities, not luxuries."

"Is that why the price is so high? This is ten times the cost it is in Vale."

"And I'll promise you right now I'm making less of a margin those places in the city. If I could sell this cheaper, I could sell more of it. It's not like there's a lack of people with aches and pains around here."

She could hear the frustration in his voice at that, though whether that was over the loss to the people here or the loss of sales it was hard to say. Still, it didn't sound like he was lying. Blake always said the White Fang focused on SDC transports to send a message. Is this the kind of message they were sending?

To think that something as simple as this would be so hard to come by out here. Back home, this was something to help with just a headache. Out here, where even miners with broken bones couldn't afford it...

 _We came here with multiple Bullheads. Why didn't we bring as many supplies as we could with us? The people could really use it…_

The answer was simple, really. They hadn't thought to. And in the time Beacon had rushed to try to save Ren, no one had bothered to ask the locals how they could help.

"What do you do with the money you earn, anyway?" Yang asked. "This is the only shop in town."

"I buy more stock. I pay for the protection of it myself. Sometimes I have enough left over to buy something for the wife or kids." Mr Mann scowled and grumbled under his breath, "Sometimes what I order even arrives."

It was clear it often didn't, and that his family had been left without their money time and time again. It would all come on the same transports that brought food, medicine, and other material Edge needed to survive.

"Are you going to buy that, then? Even if you are a friend of Ms. Schnee, I don't have time to entertain one of your kind."

One of her kind. Someone from the city, no doubt, or a huntress. Or maybe just a spoiled brat. Yang would have bristled at that at any other time, and maybe taken it out on him or his shop like she had Junior. Stuff like that had been a lot easier when she hadn't been forced to stick around and see the consequences for her actions. Even Mr Mann, foreman of Edge, didn't have enough to actually be called well-off. She and Ruby probably grew up in a nicer house than he could afford.

"Yeah, I'll get this. I don't suppose you can do a deal on two."

"You suppose right. I don't even have two bottles."

Yang nodded and delved into her pocket, rifling through the lien she'd carefully saved up for the last few weeks. One and a half thousand, quite a bit by her standards, and far more than she'd ever expected to spend on a dinky bottle of general drugs. The lien felt heavy in her hand as she gave it over, while the white plastic bottle felt disappointingly light.

"Good doing business with you," Mr Mann said, not really meaning it. "Won't be another shipment for a month, I'm afraid. We're low on emergency meds, too, and the monsoon season always leaves behind sickness."

"Does Edge have enough?" she asked.

"When has it ever? People will get by, or they won't. That's life for you."

"Can't you ask the SDC for more resources?"

"Already have, girl. They're sending an extra convoy but that won't mean shit if the White Fang take it. Medicine, food, and supplies for their war effort. And a whole load of starving people on the frontier." He snorted. "Some of them will even have the balls to say it serves the faunus who work here right, and that life would be better for them in the Fang."

Yang was glad Blake wasn't here to hear this. It would have ended poorly, though who for she had no idea. "I see. Right, I'll leave you to it, then. Hopefully the convoys will get through."

"Yeah… hopefully…"

There was one other person in the shop as she made her way out, a young boy looking longingly at some food he probably couldn't afford. Yang wished she could have helped him, but she was out of funds now as well, as poor as he, though obviously much more well-fed. She ducked her head as she slipped outside and shielded her eyes against the early morning sun.

The monsoons had broken for the moment, but weather further east still grounded them here. But in the brief day that was here people going to and fro, removing water-proof tarps and protections from buildings and checking their condition. The mine was already alive with activity, and the sound of grinding rock from deep inside. No rest for the miners, it seemed. The mine probably hadn't even been safely checked yet before the miners got back to work.

It was obvious why hunters would be such a boon to Edge. Genuine hunters – not huntresses like her and Team RWBY. In a town so dedicated to the mines, no one else could be spared to gather food. With SDC handling the defence, but unable to secure much more than the all-important dust, a few good hunters were probably more valuable than any single Huntress might be.

Not that Edge had many good hunters anymore. They'd lost two hunters in a matter of days, after all. That was a big deal; worth far more than the temporary protection afforded by three or four teams from Beacon.

 _We're just extra mouths to feed right now. They were probably seen as burdens._

Yang's boots sloshed their way through the slowly drying mud as she made her way deeper into Edge, past several huts where people were laying out cloth to dry outside. Dogs barked at her as she walked by, tethered to posts or running free in some cases. Many snapped and chased one another, but it was play and none fought. They were too well-trained for it. A few kids played in the mud, too, though they were all exceptionally young. She didn't see anyone over the age of twelve doing so.

What was the age where young boys and girls began to work in the mines? The Kingdom had laws against that kind of thing, but she had to wonder if the laws were applied out here. She had to wonder if the people of Edge wanted them to. It was all well and good to say you were doing it for their sake, but if they couldn't earn lien for food they couldn't get themselves...

The desperate might try their luck outside the walls, but there was a world-full of reasons why old hunters and Huntresses were so rare. A grim, Grimm-full world of reasons.

Eventually she reached her destination, a more run-down and ramshackle part of Edge, if that were even possible. The buildings here were squat and tightly pressed together, little more than two-room abodes with a large central room where people lived, socialised, and slept – and then a storage room or pantry. Most of these people were outside, making the most of the space they could to wash clothing, cook over open fires or chat between themselves. It was woman for the most part, though a few elderly men found their places among them.

Down one sloppy mud path Yang saw the person she was looking for; a girl in a brown dress with a white front, struggling with two needles to weave some threads of cloth together. Another girl stood behind her and whispered encouragement and instruction.

Yang came to a stop ten or more metres away and watched the two for a moment. It was a surreal and peaceful scene, and one that might have brought a smile to her face at any other moment. The longer she looked, however, the more the details became clear. The one trying to knit was an amateur. She was struggling, especially because of how much her hands shook. Yang raised a fist to her mouth and coughed loudly.

The two froze and looked her way. Yang knew she stood out with bright yellow hair that reached down to the back of her legs and bare skin, fresh and clean bar the mud on her boots. She might as well have been an impossible diamond in the middle of this place. She was unmissable, but for once that didn't do much to make her feel good about herself.

The girl who had been knitting dropped her work in shock. She looked up, revealing a face equal parts red and white, pitted with scars and disfigured beyond recognition. Kalie whimpered and tried to reach for her fallen cloth, but her hands were shaking so much that she kept missing it until the other girl gestured for her to stop.

"I've got it, Kalie," the other girl said kindly. "Why don't you go inside? I think I hear Pa' calling for you. You know that old dog isn't as young as he used to be."

Kalie moved quietly, likely not believing it for an instant but moving with purpose nonetheless, moving behind the girl and into the house without acknowledging Yang. That left the girl behind to stoop down and pick up the needle and thread, placing it in a pocket on the front of her dress. She was a brown-haired girl with brown eyes and brown dog-like ears that fell flat down the side of her head. In her tan dress, she was the epitome of plain, but her face was anything but. It was uneven and misshaped, not by injury but just the random hand of fate or genetics. Her nose was a little too big and dominated it, while her cheeks were just on the chubby side and her skin was covered in freckles that almost came in patches, far too dense to count.

She wasn't afraid, though, and watched Yang with a look that wasn't friendly, but also wasn't quite as dismissive as many of the others had given her over the last few days.

"Can I help you, huntress?" the girl asked. "My name is Debbie," she added, remembering her manners.

"Yang," she returned, introducing herself. She glanced past the faunus toward the hovel. "I… I actually came to see Kalie."

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Debbie said. She didn't so much as move as remain between Yang and the door, and though the girl looked frail and weak Yang had the sinking suspicion she wasn't inclined to move if asked. Or threatened.

"Don't worry," Yang said, holding both hands up and open. "I'm not here to cause problems, I swear."

"I'm sorry, but I heard what happened at Phil's place."

Yang cringed but made no move to defend herself. There was no defence to be made, no matter how antsy she'd been over Ren at the time. She'd been looking for something to take her mind off of things, not...

"Kalie... doesn't want to see us, does she?"

Debbie didn't deny it. It wouldn't have been believable if she had, so Yang swallowed and tried a different question.

"Does she hate us?"

"Hate is a strong word." Debbie looked to the hut and then turned back. "Will you walk with me a little?"

Yang nodded, catching the real meaning. Kalie was probably watching from the window, so giving her some room was the best option. She let the faunus past and then followed after her, the two of them moving down and off the muddy street toward the walls of the settlement.

"Edge... isn't the easiest place for those who can't support themselves," Debbie said, speaking first as they walked away. "We can't afford to be. We have a hard enough time as it is without hosting free-loaders. The first rule I learned growing up out here is that if you don't work, you don't eat." Yang almost bristled at the suggestion that Kalie was somehow a freeloader, but that didn't seem to be what the faunus girl was trying to say. Not by how she frowned. "Kalie's... not in a good way right now, I'm afraid."

"Because of her scars?"

Debbie shook her head. "Because she's ashamed. Scars might scare a boy away, but they don't stop you being good at a job. She can't do hers anymore. Kalie was a hunter. Maybe not the best, but she was good enough to pull her weight and then some. She could even pull in as much game as Jaune, even if that was because she stayed closer to home. She knew her plants, her herbs and where to find them. She had a place. Problem is, that's all out there." She gestured to the wall.

"And now, Kalie can't go out there anymore. Won't. Just the thought of it..." she shook her head.

"If it were just that it wouldn't be a problem," she continued. "Plenty of people make themselves useful out here, in the mines or picking up a craft. Some even just marry and raise kids or look after stuff, or even... or even look after people after dark. But that's where the other problem comes in."

A sick twisting feeling soured Yang's stomach. This time it was the scars, and it wasn't hard to see why- though it was hard to unsee it. Kalie's worth to the settlement was in two different ways; what she could offer as a skill and what she could offer as herself. If she lost the first, and no one wanted the other...

She'd been pretty, once. Now she couldn't even rely on that, thanks to them.

"Is that why you're trying to help her learn to sew?" Yang asked. "Thinking that will be a career choice for her?" She felt a smile almost rise. "I'm glad she has a friend to look after her."

"Maybe. I don't know…" Debbie sighed. "Kalie and I were never close. I knew her through Jaune more than anything and even then..." she grimaced. "I don't like hunters. The thought of killing innocent things makes my skin crawl. Even now Kalie smells of blood. But still..." she looked up, a modest but hardly insignificant resolve in her eyes. "She's did us a good turn in the past, when we were down on our luck. And I know what it's like to be stared at the wrong way."

Yang didn't. Or rather, the way Yang knew was likely completely different from the faunus girl's.

"But isn't she living with you?" Yang asked. "You're trying to help her."

"Do I need to be a friend to do any of that?"

"No, I just… I assumed…"

"She needed someone to look after her," Debbie sighed. "She's got nothing and no one, and she just looked lost. I know a little bit of what it's like." The girl laughed bitterly. "They call me dogface-Debbie when they think I can't hear them. Sometimes they say it when they know I can. I know a little of what it's like. Ma' and Pa' were okay with it, and feeding another person… well, it's not easy, but I'm stronger than I look."

Yang's heart fell. "You work in the mines?"

"It's a job. No one can really see you down there. SDC still pays, no matter what you look like." Debbie shrugged and looked away. "Can we not talk about it? You can here for a reason, didn't you?"

Yang felt sick to her stomach and couldn't ignore the redirection. She reached into her pocket and pushed the plastic bottle into the girl's hand.

"I wanted to give her this. It's… it's not much, but it should help with the pain."

Debbie stared down at it. "Medicine?"

"Painkillers," Yang said. "The instructions are on the back."

The faunus' cheeks heated. "I… I can't see that well. We can't afford glasses for me with what we make."

Was it even possible to feel any worse than she already did? Yang snatched the packet back and scanned the instructions for the girl. "It's one in the morning and one in the afternoon, before the last meal of the day. There are sixty in here, so it should last for a month. Make sure she drinks water after taking them."

"Thank you," Debbie said, taking them back. "This… I'm sure Kalie would say it means a lot to her if she could. The pain's probably part of what's making her shake. It wasn't... she doesn't hate you, you know?" Debbie asked, as if to reassure. "She feels guilty for ruining your mission. She's too ashamed to face you."

Yes, it seemed, it was possible to feel worse. Yang's eyes closed, and she took a fortifying breath before opening her eyes.

"It's the least I can do," she said. "Maybe the only thing I can do right now. Can you tell her... can you tell her it's not her fault? We were supposed to protect her. I know an apology won't do anything for her now, but... we're sorry," she said, looking down. "We're all... Ruby was crying the whole way back. I know one girl's tears don't mean much, but..." She was cut off by a hand over her mouth. Dogface-Debbie smiled. It wasn't pretty by any means, but it was soft and warm.

"I'll tell her, Miss Yang. For what it's worth, thank you for this. It will make life easier for her for a while."

"I just wish I could do more." she said.

"I think you've done enough."

Yeah…

That was certainly one way of putting it, even if Debbie hadn't meant it like it sounded. Yang nodded and took a step back, leaving the dog-eared faunus among the mud and ramshackle buildings clutching a bottle of medicine worth more than she made in a week. Ember Celica, the bracelet-weapons she used whenever she fancied, were probably worth more than everything in her house put together.

Buying medicine for Kalie would help, but it might just be seen as another example of her flaunting her wealth. It didn't feel that way, considering she wasn't well-off by Vale's standards, but she was willing to bet her allowance growing up would be a hefty sum here. Funny how she never thought about it before coming out here. She could give all the lien in her pockets away, and someone would probably take it, but she wouldn't get gratitude for it. Not when it was literally pocket-change compared to what she had back home.

She remembered Uncle Qrow's brutal honesty on their recent mistakes. He'd said that dwelling on them helped no one, and just made them look egotistical. She'd messed up and hurt innocent people, but she wasn't helping them by feeling bad about it. She couldn't buy her way out of it either.

"If I want to start fixing stuff, then I need to do something," she growled.

Her eyes landed on some miners coughing as they made their way out of the still-soggy mineshaft, bent double under the weight of still-soaked timbers. They dropped it with a crash, the wet wood splintering under its own weakness. Near them, a SDC foreman in only slightly better clothing nodded and tallied it down, before pointing the miners at a pile of fresh, dry timbers nearby. With a weary acceptance, the miners stumbled over to the pile of mine supports and struggled to lift one up. Mine repairs, to shore up the mine after the storm?

Yang looked at the foreman, releasing a long breath as she did.

Hell, it was worth a shot.

/-/

Qrow pushed through the wooden door and into the interior of Edge's local public house, a large – for Edge – wooden building with a brick fireplace and chimney. Now that the storms were past it was mostly empty, but there was the man behind the bar cleaning a single mug, and four boys sat at it, trying to drown whatever they could afford on a school-boy's salary.

Some might think it was pathetic... but he was hardly one to criticise them for it. He'd been in their position more times than he cared to admit.

Cardin, the leader, noticed him as he approached. The boy looked up with a scowl, but probably didn't stand because he couldn't. "What do you want?" he slurred slightly, looking at Qrow with an impertinent glare. "Come to tell us how bad we fucked up?"

It was a challenge, but there was something else behind it too. A hint of desired expectation behind the provocation that Qrow recognized instantly.

The boy wanted to be insulted. He wanted to be told he was a failure, to confirm what he already felt.

Qrow was familiar with that, too. How many times had he tried to make Tai hate him instead of blaming himself? How many times had he picked a drunken fight in a bar just like his niece had, just to somehow 'lose' and wake up in the rubbish of an alley where he felt he belonged?

Qrow was familiar with it indeed. That didn't mean he'd rise to the bait. Qrow sighed and ran a hand through his greying hair. _Kids_.

"Came to tell you we're heading back to Beacon in a few days," he said. "Three, maybe four, before the weather between here and Vale is good enough for us to get back to Beacon. Just thought I should tell you lot."

The teenager nodded, his friends doing the same but for the one with the mohawk, who had passed out on the bar already. The four of them practically reeked of stale bread and booze. Personal hygiene looked to have largely been forgotten.

"I'll leave you four to your work. Just be ready to leave in a couple of days."

None of them answered. They didn't even hear him. He thought about saying something more, but the man behind the bar caught his eye and shook his head. The message was clear enough.

Qrow sighed and made his way outside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. Of all the lessons he hated more than any other, failure had to be it. Beacon never really taught you it, nor did Signal. You could fail a test, but there was rarely any _real_ danger. That's what the teachers were for- to stop things before they got too bad. True failure only ever happened away from such safe places, but every team thought that they'd be the ones who knew enough and trained enough to avoid it.

 _Not that we were any better,_ he thought, thinking back on Team STRQ. _We're all young and invincible once. The whole world was ours for the taking, and we knew no one could beat us if we stuck together._

"Yeah, right," he snorted. Maybe no one could - maybe no one had- but that hadn't meant much in the end. At least his niece's run in with reality hadn't lost her family. Just a friend - a comrade.

"They might think this is the lowest point of their lives, but it's not," he reminded himself aloud. With any luck, this would temper them for times ahead. He hoped so, at least.

The huntsman found himself trailing across the outskirts of Edge towards the Bullhead Team CFVY had come in. Those four were split out across the village doing whatever they fancied, though he'd seen the faunus among them accompany some hunters out earlier, offering her protection to help them hunt food for the village. The big giant had been helping people carry timber to repair buildings damaged in the monsoons. Contrary to the younger students, the older team had found themselves, if not welcomed, at least accepted by the locals soon enough.

The Bullhead pilot nodded at him as he approached, though she went back to her repairs a second later. Stranded as she was on the wrong side of the monsoon front, there wasn't much else for her to do. A hatch by the cockpit opened and the woman's hands reached inside, tinkering with stuff he barely recognised, much less knew anything about.

"Problems?" he asked.

"Nothing besides the usual," the woman grunted, not even bothering to look at him. "Nevermore feather got inside, cut some wires and slowing the thing down. Trying to figure out if it's fixed or still broke, without taking the whole damn thing apart."

Qrow's eyes narrowed as his attention focused. "I hadn't heard they had an issue getting back," he said.

"Didn't," the woman grunted, reaching in for something. "Redundant flight systems worked, but I don't want to rely on that next time in case they don't. Drag's bad enough that we might not outfly the next nevermore. Only so many redundant systems you can rely on before the thing's just redundant scrap. Mechanics coming in on the next flight are sure to get it running right, but I'm just trying to see how bad it is."

"Can it fly?" Qrow asked, to the point.

"If it has to, but it's definitely not up for the no-go zones," she said. "I wouldn't want to risk racing a murder, that's for sure. It's- blast," she cursed, as some lights faded inside. She stepped away, clearly taking a break from her work. "Why? Need to go somewhere, Huntsman?" she asked, looking away from her work long enough to take a measured look at him.

Qrow shook his head. "Not right now. Just looking into what the options are."

"Well, there's walking or waiting, at least till the Monsoon clears further east. Next Bullheads won't arrive until then. You can tell your little minions that too, so that she stops asking."

"My minion?" Qrow asked.

"You know - her," the pilot indicated with some clear wariness, pointing in a direction from which footsteps were approaching.

"Uncle Qrow, Uncle Qrow!"

Qrow turned, and saw his niece, and his heart clenched a little as she approached, running with eyes wide and expectant smile that suggested she had a great idea. He was pretty sure he knew what but put on a smile anyway.

"Hey, kiddo. What's up?" he asked, even as the pilot subtly stepped away and behind him. Good choice- this was definitely something better left to a Huntsman.

"The monsoons have stopped!" Ruby declared, looking at Qrow with excitement in her eyes.

"Yeah, it has," he said, nodding towards the damp but drying surroundings. "What of it?"

Ruby's smile almost fell. Almost. She caught it at the last second. "Well you said the monsoons were what was keeping the Bullhead grounded. Now that the rain is gone they can move again."

"Only so far," Qrow caveated. "Weather's still bad elsewhere. Just give it a few days."

"Will we be able to go then?" Ruby asked, hope rising.

Damn it.

"Yeah," Qrow said, voice rough. "We'll be able to go back to Beacon."

"W-What?" Ruby stumbled, looked horrified. "W-We're going home?"

"Yeah. Home. And school. You've got classes to go back to, remember?" he reminded. "You'll be cutting it close as it is."

Ruby shook her head, eyes wide. "But-! But if the Bullheads can fly, we can go back and try and find Ren again! And Jaune! We need to find them before something happens!"

"Ruby…"

"We need to!"

"Ruby!" he barked, this time a little sterner. Damn it this was hard, and her eyes didn't make it any easier, but still. He didn't blame her for it, but now he knew why the pilot had retreated so quickly. She'd had to be the one to answer her last time. A Huntsman like him- heck, even an Uncle- should be able to do so now.

"Ruby, it's been almost a week now. You're not going back there. And neither am I."

Ruby looked like he'd betrayed her. Perhaps he'd betrayed the image she'd had of him. Or maybe she just didn't understand.

"But... but Uncle Qrow, _why_?"

"The golden seventy-two hours are called that for a reason, Ruby," he reminded. "That's all just about anyone survives for. Even if he survived the landing and holed up like he was supposed to, he'd be out of food and water for days by now. His beacon would be dead, and he'd be trapped behind the Grimmlands and the barrier mountains."

"B-But Cardin's guide was a hunter. He could find food…"

"Cardin's guide was also a regular guy thrown into the middle of a Grimm horde when you guys left him behind in the middle of the Grimmlands," Qrow reminded, more brusquely than he'd have preferred. "Do you think he somehow managed to beat back all those Grimm that drove you away? And then found your friend? And then got them both away from one of the most dangerous Grimm on the frontier?" Qrow shook his head. "I've seen a lot of crazy stuff in my time, Ruby, and heard even crazier, but that tale would top them all."

"But- but-" Ruby stammered, caught between her hope, her disbelief, and the shame of their failure being thrown back at her. That wasn't what Qrow meant to do to his niece.

"Your heart is in the right place, Ruby," he reassured, "but there's a reason it was so important to do your mission before the monsoon. It was because it would be too late to do so afterwards. There was only one shot at this, and it's gone."

"I…" The Huntress' hands clenched into tiny fists. She didn't meet his eyes. "But the Bullhead can fly. It could…"

"The bullhead's not going anywhere," Qrow said, as firmly he could. He owed the pilot that much, to spare her any further pestering. "It already took damage just getting you back alive. It's not going back into the Grimmlands to risk more people over a pair of lost souls. Besides, who do you think will guide you? Do you think Edge is going to volunteer any more hunters to go into the Grimmlands after that last try?"

"But you're here, Uncle Qrow," Ruby protested, voice tight as she looked down. Qrow knew that there was water in her eyes. "You could lead it this time. You're a real Huntsman." Not like them- students just pretending.

Qrow sighed, even as he knelt down and pulled Ruby closer.

"I am a real Huntsman," he admitted, hugging her. "But that doesn't mean I'm a miracle worker. I don't die for lost causes, and I'm not going to let you, or your sister, do so either. You're going back to Beacon, Ruby, and that's final." He tried to be stern but couldn't help his weakness. "I'm sorry."

"You are."

Ruby jolted at her own words, more surprised than he. "I mean- I'm sorry- I just-" she looked at him, face afraid at the insult she gave, but not able to deny it even as she looked away again. "I just thought it'd be worth a chance. I'm sorry," she said again, before pushing away and turning, hood up and arm covering her face.

Qrow watched her flee, before rising to his feet out of the muck he'd been kneeling in. He sighed. That... had gone about as well as he'd expected it to.

"I... I might be able to get the redundancies back up myself, if I try," the pilot spoke from behind, sounding like anyone might after having watched that scene.

"Don't push yourself," Qrow said, watching Ruby stumble into someone and turn a corner, clearly crying. "We don't need anyone getting any bright ideas."

"Can't hurt to have options though, right?" she asked, turning his earlier words back on him. "No one said we'd have to land. Wouldn't need a guide either if it's just a look."

Qrow sighed again, harder this time.

"I just made my niece cry over this, lady. Don't test me now. I'm serious."

"And so am I," the pilot said in a measured - measuring - way. "I'm just fixing this thing because I already was, and I've got nothing better to do anyway. If I get those redundancies back up enough to outrun any Nevermore..."

"It wouldn't matter. There's nothing to find," Qrow reminded.

"Then there's no risk swinging by on the scenic route," the pilot returned. "Gran' always said the only way to be sure you never find something is to never look at all."

"Your Granny have any words on dashed hopes and unrealistic expectations?" His girls - and their friends - didn't need their hopes raised only to be dashed again.

"Only that the only disappointing Huntsmen are the one who never try at all."

Qrow shot a sharp glare at the girl almost as old as him. "Sounds like she and I would get along famously then."

"If you say so, Huntsman," the pilot said, turning back to her work with a blatant cold shoulder. "I imagine you'd have a hard time, though."

"Why is that?"

"She died to the Grimm waiting for a Huntsman who never came."

/-/

"We'll camp here."

Ren was already exhausted when he dumped his supplies down, moving automatically to start the fire. It had all become routine by now. Even so, as he stacked wood and Jaune started to set his traps about the camp, he couldn't help but ask, "Do you think we should leave some kind of sign?"

"A sign?" Jaune didn't look back, but rather kept his attention on the task at hand. "For what, the Grimm? I think we've got enough problems with them as it is."

"No, for the others. For humans."

"I told you there's no humans out here."

"But there are in Edge," Ren pointed out. "Don't you think we should try and signal them in some way? Or at least leave signs of our passing behind, so people know where we've gone and how to follow."

"No one is coming for us, huntsman. Far as everyone is concerned, your friends included, we're dead. It would take a reckless fool to try something against that." He tightened some chord on a tree and sighed. "Not even the best of friends would hold out hope in a situation like this."

He didn't bother arguing. Maybe Jaune was right, but maybe he wasn't. In truth, he was probably correct going by the standards of the people he knew. Ren had to wonder if his friends would be any different. Loyalty only went so far, and if they truly thought him dead? Well, they'd know his last wish wouldn't be to have more follow and risk their lives.

"I guess we're on our own, then…"

"Like always, city boy. Like always."

* * *

 **Coeur's Note: Not sure why this happens every time, but I'll say it again. What is written here is** _ **fiction**_ **. It does not necessarily dictate** _ **our**_ **views on things. If you disagree with Qrow, then fine. Deal with that. But don't come raging at us for it. In his mind, he's in the right.**

* * *

 **CF's Notes**

* * *

 **Another chapter, another bit of progress. As you can tell, catching up on the beta-plot for a bit. I suppose that makes this a review/rest chapter?**

 **Chapter was written by Coeur well in advance, the delay in reviewing/revising it was entirely on me, so if there were any issues please credit them to the person it belongs to.**

 **Next chapter, moving more firmly into our next arc- the Lake Tear arc.**

 **Cheers,**

 **C.F.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 17** **th** **March**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	14. Chapter 14

**Oh, my lord, this site sometimes. Due to the constant server errors yesterday making it** _ **impossible**_ **to get into my account, I had to delay this story until today. I'm sure most of you figured it out since the site would not have worked for you either.**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

* * *

Ren hated the rain.

It was a new discovery, really. He used to like it. Back in Beacon, or even before that when he'd had a home to call his own. It had been a fond hobby to listen to the rain falling, the musical sound as drops splashed into puddles and others fell on the roof with a constant tinkling of water on slate. It was relaxing, especially when you were warm and dry inside with a book, a window open to allow the cool and damp breeze to brush against your skin.

Mind you, that peace and solitude might get thrown out the window when Nora dragged you outside to play in a puddle or came in and made a mess after doing so on her own, but still. On balance, he'd liked the rain, or thought he did.

Turns out, he hadn't. He'd only liked the proof against the rain, of being comfortable and dry when everything else was not. It was a bit different when you were trudging through a ridiculous drizzle that couldn't seem to decide whether it wanted to be a shower or not. His skin was damp, his hair frizzy, and the two of them were in a constant state of not quite wet, but not entirely dry either. It hardly helped that the moisture continued to creep into the bandages around his leg and into his socks, dampening the wound caused by Mouk and making him ache.

Jaune, thankfully, seemed to have discovered a shred of empathy within him, for his pace – while constant – wasn't fast, and that allowed Ren to keep up without a limp. The hunter seemed at home in the rain, but in truth it was more likely his leather jacket simply insulated him better. It was made for life out here, while Ren's own weren't. Strong green had given way to wet and mud and wet mud over time, a little more with each hand wipe against the already filthy cover.

If the rain were heavier and colder he could have worn the raincoat, but it wasn't and despite the constant damp it was a humid and warm day. That, at least, was one misery Jaune must be suffering that he wasn't.

"Is it always like this out here?" he asked, hiding any hint of panting in his voice. A little weariness might have seeped through, but Jaune didn't notice it.

"It is after the monsoon season. Heavy rain fit to drown a man followed by light rain that never stops. Best time of the year."

That, at least, was a sarcasm even Ren could catch. But still, the rain wasn't likely to stop anytime soon, then. Ren felt his spirits drop a little but he remained quiet. It wasn't complaining over when he was determined not to be seen as a burden, wound or not. Even Jaune was tired, his usual quips lacking, but he was keeping up the pace over the slight but seemingly endless incline.

They trekked for another hour or two in near silence, the only words an occasional warning from Jaune over a particularly slippery piece of rock, or a pitfall he'd spotted ahead. The rain kept the Grimm sightings to a minimum, little more than the occasional shape of a Beowolf in the distance loping for cover. There were no Nevermore in the sky, a relief due to the open terrain and easy sight the two travellers would be.

But not everything could afford to hide away until the rain ended, and Jaune stopped Ren suddenly by placing a hand on his chest. "Wait a second," the hunter hissed, alert. He crouched low. Ren instinctively did the same, eyes scanning the area.

"Grimm?" he whispered.

"No. Deer." Jaune pointed ahead, over some bushes in front of them. Up the hill, on a gentle slope between two pines, a small pack of deer appeared to be grazing. There were six to eight in total, with two young and one stag in the lead. They appeared to be unbothered by the rain, or they'd been driven out by hunger. Grimm didn't need to eat, but the regular animals did. Jaune's eyes seemed to glint. "Wait here. I'll see if I can get one."

"Do we have time?" Ren asked, not opposed to the idea of a good meal and a moment's rest, but aware of the danger all around them.

"I'll take the shot as quick as I can and see how it pans out. We should be out of the worst of the Grimmlands now, so if it works it works and if it doesn't we move on." The hunter shucked off his pack, quietly placing it down, and drew his bow. He crept off into the underbrush, careful not to make any noise.

Ren sat down, ignoring the dampness of the ground as he watched Jaune creep forward. The moment's rest for his leg was welcome, even if it was clear his companion didn't intend for it to be long.

Hunting was a game of patience, or so his father had once said, and from what he knew of Jaune the man had it in spades when Huntsmen weren't involved. Still, his approach here was something less than cautious, likely because they couldn't afford for him to spend too much time on this. He kept low but moved fast, sliding down onto one knee perhaps thirty metres from the herd. The rain worked to his advantage, masking both scent and sound. The hunter slowly drew and nocked an arrow.

The herd hadn't noticed. The stag was the largest and strongest by far, a good target, but Ren was fairly sure Jaune wouldn't bother with it. The chances of bringing it down in a single arrow were low and if he was still using the improvised arrows from the cave, then they wouldn't really hold up to a game hunter's standards. The young deer would be an easier kill, though a smaller target by far and with less meat.

Jaune chose one of the doe instead, slowly standing up from behind a bush and drawing the arrow so that the flight brushed against his cheek. Ren held his breath, even as Jaune let it out in one slow motion and released.

The arrow pierced into the flank of a doe with its head to the ground. It struck near the neck, above the point where the ribcage ended. The entire pack's heads perked up, but as the female staggered and stumbled, Jaune leapt from the bushes.

The stag fled, leading the herd away and leaving the doe behind to die. It crumpled before Jaune reached it, though Ren saw the hunter draw a knife and slit its throat quickly nonetheless, saving it what agony he could.

The coast clear, Ren descended down toward the kill, dragging both bags as Jaune started to carve into the unfortunate animal, tearing through fur and skin and sectioning off choice cuts of meat. He worked fast, expertly, and didn't blink at the nauseous smell or sight of fresh red blood on his hoodie. Already some of it was running off it like the rain on the treated leather.

"That was a good shot," Ren complimented.

"Good for a stone arrow," Jaune conceded, "but the rain helped me out. This one was old, too. Any of the others might have been able to shake it off and escape. They'd probably still have bled out but the meat would be for the carrion and not us." The hunter grunted and held out a slab of red meat, dripping with blood. He seemed surprised when Ren took it and brought out some the ration bar wrappers, wrapping the meat up as best he could. "Huh. I expected you to be more squeamish."

"Over a little blood?" Ren asked.

Jaune shrugged. "I guess? Most city-folk are, at least the first time. Even miners don't see the inside of a butcher shack that often."

"It's not my first time, and I didn't always get my food from a store." Ren recalled his father fondly. "I've seen animals butchered before. It's not pretty but it's a necessity. I can help if you need it." He showed one of his blades for emphasis.

Jaune, for once, actually looked impressed. "I'll have to take you up on that sometime. Still, not much point here. We need to keep moving, and don't have the time or means to store all this." He stood a second later, leaving much of the carcass behind, but not before bringing his hands together and bending his head in a brief but obvious prayer. "I wish we didn't have to waste this much, or to waste the poor thing, but we need what we can carry. Sorry," he finished, apologizing to the dear.

"Some other animal will finish this," Ren said. "It didn't die for no reason."

"True." Jaune slapped his hands together again before wiping them against the damp grass, leaving streaks of red across green. He dried them on his pants, which were as wet and muddy as Ren's. "We'll cook those up tonight. Call it a celebratory meal after what just happened in the mountain pass."

"A celebration? You're in a surprisingly good mood."

"Well we did just survive Mouk. Hell, we maybe even beat him." The hunter shook his head, still surprised at the fact. "I think that deserves a proper night's rest and a good meal. Don't you?"

Even if he didn't share his companion's enthusiasm over besting Mouk, there was no denying the appeal of what he'd suggested. "I certainly wouldn't say no. Maybe you can tell me a few more of the legends about this place."

"Interested now? I thought you called them silly folk tales."

"That was before I saw Mouk with my own eyes," he said, conceding the point. "I'm much more open to the idea now, I think."

Jaune laughed, clearly in too good a mood to really be offended. "Sure. I'll see if I can't think up some good ones as we travel. This corner of the frontier is filled with them. I'll see what I can do once we reach a good place to camp."

Ren nodded, and the rest of the journey was filled mostly with silence.

/-/

If there was one thing Qrow hated, it was emotional teenagers.

Make no mistake, he'd been one once, and caused others enough trouble that they wouldn't let him forget it but dealing with them wasn't quite as easy – especially not when it was on a topic as sensitive as a missing teammate. He could remember his own pain when Summer died, not to mention Taiyang's. Having it happen at seventeen just felt even crueller.

But letting the poor bastard's partner get herself killed would be a poor way to remember the kid. And it didn't take a genius to know that was exactly what would happen if Nora Valkyrie – as compromised as she was – wandered out alone into the Grimmlands. He didn't know much about this Ren guy, but he'd hazard a guess he wouldn't want his childhood friend to die.

A shame she didn't see it that way.

"You're going to abandon Ren!?" she practically bellowed. Or shouted, the distinction was pretty close. "No! I won't accept it!"

"Accept it or not, but it's the fact of what's happening," Qrow said. The girl's teammate was beside her, looking just as upset but at least a little more understanding. The Nikos girl was resigned. It wasn't fair, but nothing was in a situation like this.

"Everyone tried their hardest to find your teammate," he said, speaking a little more kindly. "No effort was spared, and two teams risked their lives. I'm sorry, but sometimes these things don't work out, and we can't afford to send more people in." Or wouldn't, as the case might be.

"Then let me go!"

"I doubt your friend would forgive me if I did that."

Nora recoiled, as if she'd been slapped. Her mouth opened to argue but no sound came forth. It looked like he'd struck a nerve and from the way the redhead nodded sadly, it was an accurate summation on his part.

"If he's watching down on us you know he'd be shouting at you not to do something rash," he went on. "If not him or yourself, then at least think of your team. Can they really afford to lose another teammate? I know it's hard; I lost my teammate, too. All you can do is move on and fight in their memory. Never let their ideals or their memory out of your heart."

"NO!" Something snapped. The girl's eyes flashed. "Stop talking like he's already dead!"

"Why should I?" Qrow challenged, knowing common sense had failed and giving the girl the excuse she needed. "There's no chance your kid is alive anymore, let alone the guide that CRDL lost. No one survives past the golden hours in the Grimmlands for a reason. If he wanted to be alive so badly, he wouldn't have gone running out there on his own without you."

The gasp from beside him told him his instinct hit close to home. The other hint came in the form of a fist lunging for his face. Qrow stepped back on instinct, twisting his body to the side to let it pass. She was open on her flank – well, she was open everywhere, to be fair. He didn't bother taking it. Instead, he let her recover and launch another attack, a vicious right hook filled with pent up rage. He let it slam into his forearm, flexing his aura. He could have dodged, but she needed this.

She continued to shout and accuse, lashing out with both fists at him. What did he know? Why didn't he go out to save Ren? Her teammate made to step in but he waved her off with a hand and a stern look. She stood in the background, watching helplessly as her friend attacked a huntsman far older and far more experienced than her. Any other might have knocked her down and shown her what for, but he let it happen.

It took a while for her to lose what energy she had. From the little sleep and less food, he was surprised she lasted so long. His aura had tanked, though not enough to be a danger. He shook one arm in the air and winced at the bruises he could feel forming. She packed a punch that was for sure.

Nora slumped to her knees, panting for breath. Her breasts rose and fell, and she glared at him with such incredible hate. Qrow knew it wasn't aimed at him. Not really.

"Got it out of your system now?"

"I…" The girl panted for breath. "I won't give up on him… the others may have but I won't. If they'd tried harder-"

This time, he didn't hold back, and in a single movement Nora was kicked onto her back and slammed into the ground. The first, and only, offensive step he'd made during her entire barrage.

"Don't even go there," Qrow warned, more forceful than he'd been before. "What happened here is sad, I know, but blaming others? That's where it stops." He stepped off her and knelt down to her level. "It hurts, I know. But everyone else is hurting too, especially your teammates. Maybe no one as bad as you, but Team RWBY nearly had someone _die_ for your friend. Team CRDL did. Don't tell yourself they didn't try when they know just how badly they failed."

The girl's eyes watered, and she looked to the side and at the floor beneath her. There was no telling if the message had got through or not, but he knew she'd heard it. The rest was up to her. He stood and moved over to her teammate, knowing his presence wouldn't help right now.

"Keep an eye on her," he said, quietly. "You're strong, I hear. Don't be afraid to restrain her if she tries to sneak out on her own. You'll be saving her life now, no matter what she says later. Your lost teammate would want that."

"I know…" Pyrrha's face wavered but she managed to hold on. "Ren would be furious if we let something happen because of him. I'll… I'll do what I have to."

Qrow placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her the most reassuring smile he could. "Atta girl. You have to be strong for her now." Then he remembered an absence and looked around again. "Where's your other teammate? There should be three of you."

"Who cares?" the grieving girl behind him answered.

He looked to the other for an answer. Pyrrha cringed. "She… she decided it would be best to stay out of Nora's way for now," she explained. "She came from Edge and said she was going to stay at her family's home for a while.

"Makes sense. Where does she live?"

"She said it's a small commune outside the walls."

Qrow's smile froze. Outside the walls? Outside of Edge? His eyes shot in the direction of the gates. His lips drew taut, and the hand on Pyrrha's arm clutched hard. "And you thought letting her go would be a good idea?" he hissed.

Pyrrha's eyes widened at first, but she didn't lose her calm. "She said she needed to go home and get some space. I believed her. She knows the danger out here."

"That only makes it _more_ likely she'd run off," Qrow reasoned, mind racing. "She'd think she could get away with it. Your team just lost a member, but this is exactly why it's important people not be left alone to do something they might regret-"

"She's not alone."

Qrow paused. "Excuse me?"

"She's not alone," Pyrrha repeated, maintaining a calm Qrow had been about to lose. "She hasn't been since… since everything happened. Ruby was going to bring her dinner and spend the night with her, and I checked on her earlier, but she's not alone. We're giving her space, but-" The Mistrali champion looked him in the eye and didn't back down. "She's not that sort of person. She promised she'd be back for dinner tomorrow, and I believe her."

Pyrrha held his gaze, and this time it was Qrow who backed down. He didn't know this leader from any other lady, but her partner believed enough to not be worried. That was… that could be a mistake, or it could be right. Different people grieved in different ways, and not all of them were broken when they broke down.

At the very least, Ruby would be there tonight, and she knew something about grief.

"Alright," Qrow conceded. "Maybe she won't go running into the night. But I still need to check up on her before we leave. Everyone's a mess after a loss like this, and I'm not the only one going to be taking a look at you when you get back to Beacon."

This wouldn't be another Team STRQ. He wouldn't let it be.

/-/

Ren sighed and rubbed his hands over his leg, working his fingers into the joints in an attempt to alleviate the pain. They'd finally reached their destination at last; a small copse of trees that provided enough cover from the rain for comfort, and room for Jaune to hang his traps around the camp. There was a fire busy crackling away, working to dry the clothes they still wore. The hunter crouched by it, roasting some strips of venison on sticks.

"Is something wrong with your leg?"

"Just muscle soreness," Ren lied, forcing himself to leave it be. His aura would hopefully kick in soon and start to heal it.

"We should have taken the pilot's boots for you. Those shoes can't be easy to trek in."

"They're not, but I wouldn't have felt comfortable wearing a dead man's shoes. And yes, I'm aware he wouldn't have needed them. Let's just call it a cultural difference between us."

"Alright," Jaune conceded without issue, though he did shake his head. Jaune tested the meat with a finger, wincing when a drop of fat oozed out and burned his skin. "Ow. Damn it."

"I'm sure I warned you before about being patient when you cook," Ren said, moving over. "Here, let me spice those before we eat. It won't take two minutes and your taste buds will thank me for it."

Jaune grumbled, as always, but didn't make a move to stop him. Much like with Nora, hunger won out – and Ren was confident enough in his culinary skills to know Jaune had enjoyed the previous meal. Albeit that the night after had been interrupted by their eight-legged friends.

Taking a knife from his pack, Ren cut a tiny slice into one of the steaks, checking the inside. It was pink still, but not so red as to be raw. For the sake of safety, and lacking any proper utensils, he left it until the middle cooked all the way through, eliminating all the bacteria he could. It was a little well-done by the standards of a proper restaurant, but beggars couldn't be choosers and it smelled divine. The fat that had dripped into the fire helped there, crackling away and giving the smoke a meaty smell. He definitely wasn't going to worry about the health benefits, or lack thereof, of fat tonight.

The tiny canister of dust flakes was one of the few things that had remained unharmed after everything under the mountain, probably because the sturdy case with its fur-lined interior was made for such rugged travel. Ren carefully added some tiny shavings, along with a tiny sampling of herbs Jaune had pointed out to him along the way.

"Are there any vegetables around here that we could safely eat?" he asked.

"I picked these mushrooms earlier," Jaune said, revealing a small pouch with four or five inside. "They're safe to eat raw. Villagers around here used to harvest them because they could grow anywhere, even after being plucked, and didn't take much space. They're a little bland, but you can make a good soup from them."

There wasn't really the time or equipment for that here, but Ren took them nonetheless and sliced them into small strips which he placed on the skewer as well. Some juice was left behind, and he pooled that over the steaks, creating an almost artistic flair – or at least as much as one could when cooking deer kebabs on a slab of stone. They were going to be eating with daggers and fingers.

"Dinner is served."

"It looks fancy," Jaune said, taking his skewer with care. "Smells good, too."

Ren cut off a chunk and blew softly on it. The test was in the taste, and he watched as Jaune bit into his own, tearing some off and chewing on it… before spitting out the bit of wood he'd taken along with the rest. The hunter swallowed, looked away, and grumbled something. He kept eating, though. Another win for his cooking, it seemed.

"How much further east do the Grimmlands go?" Ren asked, breaking the silence as they ate.

"A ways," was Jaune's unhelpful answer. "More of Remnant is ruled by the Grimm than not, so we could travel east and never leave it if we wanted."

"I meant Mouk's territory," Ren said, thinking of the countless foothills of the barrier mountains south of the Plateaus. "We were walking east for days, but we never did really did get out of his domain, did we? Even at the end, his domain had to go further than that cave." Going around Mouk's domain had been the entire reason for not heading south, after all.

Jaune frowned in thought, chewing his meat carefully. "I'm not exactly sure," Jaune admitted. "I knew Mouk had dens and hole-up places across his hunting grounds, but I never knew about that particular cave. His main haunts used to be further south and west, but he never really came up to the plateau. It was more…"

Unable to easily describe, Jaune shifted over and for his pack, before withdrawing a map from its out pocket. It was one Ren had occasionally seen Jaune check, though rarely with the air of a man in any way lost. Jaune pulled it out, not seeming to mind the dirtiness of his fingers, and laid it out for Ren to see.

The rectangular map seemed a sea of green forests but having walked half of it already Ren could already recognize the broad strokes. Elevation lines wracked the south, showing the countless foothills and shallow valleys of Mouk's domain. The upper third of the map was smoother- a flatter plateau above the foothills, gently sloping up to the north eastern edge of the map. There it met a wall of brown… and when Ren looked up to check, he was sure. Those were the barrier mountains, the unquestioned boundary of this part of the frontier. The mountains bordered the plateau before breaking east but didn't really follow beneath it except to the south-western foothills.

"We're about here," Jaune said, indicating the vague middle of the map above the start of the plateau, before pointing at one specially noted hill at the bottom left. "Mouk's cave was around here. The… Selene's Sorrow Ridge? Huh. But yeah, all the foothills south and west of the plateau…" he indicated the whole map, "was more or less Mouk's Grimmlands. He'd wander, but rarely go up the plateau. Never quite knew why."

"So, the south-east was safe?" Ren asked, tracing a part of the map which had a number of marks beneath the mountains. To the north, there was a tear-shaped lake at the foot of the mountains right at the edge of the map. Beneath, the plateau led south, creating along a strip of the plateau above Mouk's domain.

Jaune frowned. "Safe enough. Used to be little villages there along the hills, a little road to the plateau, until there wasn't anything to travel to anymore."

Ren knew that frown and stopped pressing there. He had heard enough as it was. Avoiding Mouk's domain had been why they hadn't gone south in the first place. Seeing the map, and the mountain strip that could take them to civilization…

 _I'll be home soon. Wait for me, everybody._

"Can you tell me a little about the people who lived here?" he asked instead. Apart from his curiosity there was always the academic interest. He drew out the small notebook he'd been writing his thoughts into.

"I suppose I can tell you a few things, but why?"

"I've always been interested in other societies," Ren said, which was true enough. "I'm not from Vale- I'm actually from Mistral- so I'm not sure what life is like on the Valean frontier. What kind of people were they?"

Jaune shrugged, accepting the question at face value. "Same as anywhere, I guess. Back in the day, this was a safe part of the frontier. The gradual slope meant most Grimm drifted into the river valleys, and those that didn't could be kept in check by local Huntsmen. A lot of little hamlets got set up on the plateau ridgeline to the east leading to Lake Tear, and a lot of people who just wanted to be away from the Kingdom moved out here."

Jaune poked the fire with a stick, looking in. "Wasn't hard. The water kept the soil fertile and you've seen how much game there is. Grimmlands weren't so close either- Mouk used to stay way west of here. It wasn't much, but there used to be life out here, even with the occasional Grimm. You couldn't go a day without hearing a dog go wild."

"Dogs?"

"Dogs," Jaune repeated, letting loose a rare smile. "Everyone has one out on the frontier. Man's best friend, and even a faunus' too. You could say that everyone wants one around to warn against the Grimm, and that's true, but that's not half of it. You can get through a lot of cold nights if you have a companion who's always wearing a coat and is willing to snuggle."

That was truer than Jaune knew, as Ren had had nothing more in some of his own childhood nights than a cuddly Nora.

"Sounds you really like dogs," Ren noted, hiding a smile.

Jaune practically pivoted, fire gleaming in his eyes as he grabbed a stick to gesture for emphasis.

"I love dogs!" Jaune declared, with more enthusiasm than Ren had seen from him yet. "Dogs embody loyalty! They follow their master's command above all else! Be a jerk to them and they don't complain, and unlike hunters they never once beg for a pay check!"

 _'You would like that,'_ Ren thought but didn't say aloud as Jaune continued.

"Dogs never ask for money before helping someone, and they're always honest with what they feel. That's not even touching what a good dog can do to guard you against the Grimm. Trust me, city-boy, out here they're worth their weight in gold, and easily as much as a huntsman like you. A good hunting dog's a hunter's ace in the whole. Any hunter worth his salt has one," he boasted after that not-so subtle jab that made Ren's brow crease.

"Then where's yours?" Ren asked, unable to help himself.

And just like that, Jaune deflated, the energy of the moment loss at the slightest prick as Jaune looked at him, caught in the trap.

"I- that-" he began, looking at Ren for a moment before looking away.

"She's not here anymore," he ultimately said.

"I see," Ren said, leaning back on the ground to look up at the sky. "You know, they have dogs in Mistral too. They're real common on the frontier, but for a different reason. Ever heard of the ursa escape strategy?"

Jaune hadn't, or didn't say anything, so Ren continued, as neutrally as he could.

"It's what you do when you sick a dog on an Ursa that's chasing you, so that you can run away. The dog dies, usually, but it lets the person get away. It's a common escape strategy for people unable to fight the Grimm. I've never done it myself, but I've seen it done before."

To his side, a stony silence chilled the atmosphere, so Ren felt compelled to have mercy.

"But not recently," he added. "It'd be a waste to kill one when you could sell it. Like you said, a good hunting dog's worth their weight in gold. There are some Huntsmen who would pay top lien for a trained one."

The sound of the stick in Jaune's hand breaking was the only response. Ren frowned. Had his little jab back gone a bit too far? Better change the topic before the mood soured irrevocably.

"So, back to this area. There aren't any more Grimm like Mouk around, then?" he asked.

He heard Jaune take a clear breath first, and after the sigh it seemed his tone had evened out.

"Not here, and none of that size that I know of. Grimm earn names and reputations for big deeds, but there was never much around here to be big about. Mouk just got his because you can't not name something that big."

Kind of like a mountain itself, Ren thought. You'd call a mountain range by a single title, but if one stood out then it would often earn a name all of its own. "How many Grimm are there around here that earn names?" Ren asked, noticing that Jaune seemed to have an even tone again when talking about their common enemy.

"A few. Hard to give a number. Stories come and go, and people tend to give names that stick based on who sees and survives them. You can't tell if they're all real, though, and some may have died since the telling. Rockslides, drowning, just natural causes and accidents. When Hunters used to come around, they used to clear out all the lucky little ones before they could grow into big threats."

"I see. There's no `ruler` of this land, then?"

"Nah, shouldn't be. Bigger threat is that I haven't been here much lately, so I don't know who moved in or not. We should be good if we keep moving. The reason things were so bad back in the valleys was because your friends set the whole area off with their stupidity. The Grimm were driven wild and Mouk was on edge. He's not normally so aggressive."

"It wasn't stupid," Ren said.

"Huh?"

"The rescue attempt," Ren frowned. "I know you're not a fan of Huntsmen and Huntresses – you've made that clear enough – but I'll ask you not to insult my friends like that. They were trying to save my life."

Jaune snorted and poked at the fire with a stick. "Funny way to go about it. They put you in more danger."

"Perhaps they did, but they didn't mean to. My friends are inexperienced, not stupid."

None of them had a chance to be much else, even with what training they'd received. Beacon just hadn't prepared them for this kind of situation and it meant a lot to him that they'd tried regardless. No one would have made them come, but they had.

"I don't expect you to like them," Ren tried, "but the least you can do is respect the fact they tried. Or are you saying that if you were lost you wouldn't want someone to do the same?"

Jaune snorted.

"I can get myself out of trouble just fine, but what I can't guarantee is keeping anyone else alive this far out in the Grimmlands," he countered. "You're trouble enough, but lucky for me, I won't have to deal with any more. The sooner you accept that, the better."

"Better for whom?"

"You," Jaune said pointedly. "You keep holding out hope for some magical rescue and you'll stop doing what you need to do to get yourself out of this mess. That stupid self-help book had you sit still for three days without gathering food, and you saw how that ended."

"I'll admit the guide wasn't much use," Ren conceded. "But my friends were trying to save me. They risked their lives to save mine, and while I can accept that you didn't get along with them I'd still ask you to not to belittle their efforts."

"Tch, fine." Jaune stood and wandered over to his sleeping bag, kicking it open with more force than was really required. "They're probably safe back in Vale by now, though. Real Huntsmen don't come running for people like us."

"That isn't true, Jaune."

"Isn't it? Funny. I guess all the people who lived out here must have picked up and left for fun, then," he spat, voice full of sarcasm. "Forget it. I'm getting some sleep. Don't stay up so late waiting that you're not ready to go in the morning, city-boy."

And just like that the conversation was over. Ren wasn't willing to continue it, more than able to see a fruitless battle ahead. What little camaraderie they'd built since Mouk's defeat and during the day had evidently ended. Without a common threat to unite them, he was back to being the Huntsman city-boy.

Regrettable, but maybe it couldn't be helped. They came from different worlds.

Jaune didn't know Team JNPR. They wouldn't abandon him, even if he'd wanted them to. And yes, while they weren't `true huntsmen` yet, that didn't mean they wouldn't get better with time. Teams RWBY and CRDL, too. They'd made mistakes, but he was sure they would learn from it. Ruby certainly would, and no doubt make sure everyone else did.

 _But would I want them to come after me out here?_

His eyes scanned his surroundings, the small copse of threes, less a forest and more a patch of woodland. Beyond that lay the gentle slope of the plateau leading, and then there were mountains and more even further beyond. Not to mention the Grimmlands valleys they'd just come from. Even if Team JNPR decided to risk it and look for him, they were more like to look back where they'd come from than where he was now. Back to Mouk's domain, where even if the monster was blind he still had an army of Grimm to rely upon.

Perhaps, with that in mind, it was better if his teammates did forget about him. At least for now. Better, but unlikely.

 _Don't come after me, everyone,_ Ren begged, climbing into his sleeping bag. _I just need you all to trust in me a little longer. I'll come back on my own._

/-/

It was still night time when Ren woke. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, wondering what had drawn him from his slumber in the first place. Jaune was still asleep some distance behind him, the hunter's breathing even and deep. Apart from that the only sound was the incessant chirping of crickets drawn out because of the damp air.

He gave it another moment, holding his breath to better listen, but apart from Jaune and the general surroundings there was nothing. A tired sigh rocked him, and he snuggled back down into his bag, eyes closing.

"Arf!"

Ren's eyes snapped open. There it was again – clearer, this time. He sat up and rubbed his face, fighting past a yawn as he looked over the camp. The fire had gone low and died. Smoke coiled lazily from it up toward the canopy above. The camp was otherwise in one piece, with no sign of disturbance.

"Arf!"

"Again," he whispered, rubbing his face and quietly climbing out of the bag, careful not to wake Jaune. The sound was distant, somewhere off from the trees and towards the plains they'd come from. It was a dog's bark, easily recognised in the night's silence, and also unmistakable in its sound. Wolves didn't bark like that, and Beowolves certainly didn't.

A feeling of relief flowed through him. Dogs were a sign of safety, after all. Dogs were a sign of civilization.

Jaune had said people lived here, Ren thought, glancing down to the still-sleeping hunter. Jaune must have been exhausted himself to not have woken to the sound, or at least lacked a Huntsman's honed edge. But that was irrelevant- what Jaune had said earlier was what mattered. Some had no doubt died when this frontier fell to the Grimm, but others had evacuated. It wasn't inconceivable that some remnants of their lives had been left behind. The thought of a family pet being one of those was harsh, but he doubted it would have been on purpose.

Perhaps… perhaps someone's bad fortune could become their boon?

"Arf! Arf!"

Ren hovered on the edge of the camp, not quite willing to go any further. "It could be wild, or feral," he whispered, more as a warning to himself than anything else. "Even if it wasn't, it would have no reason to trust me. The last thing we need is a commotion that might draw trouble."

And, as cruel as it sounded, a dog might be a burden for them right now. Their supplies of food were lean enough without needing to hunt more. Trying to train a wild dog wasn't likely to be worth it either. Ren listened again, hoping to catch another sound of it just as a means to tell if it was alarmed or not. Probably not- it was safer out here than they were. Grimm didn't hunt animals, and as long as there were no human masters to sacrifice themselves for…

No further sounds came. The dog didn't bark, and if it had hurried away it was too distant for him to hear its footsteps. He'd thought it sounded close, but not too close. Maybe within a hundred metres or so. Maybe it was warning them away? A forest like this would doubtless have countless small dens.

Either way, they'd be gone tomorrow. There wasn't much reason to worry. Perhaps he could convince Jaune to leave their scraps behind for it, a nice treat as thanks for the use of its territory. With a shake of his head Ren turned back toward the camp.

And stepped on something unnatural.

"Hm?" He glanced down, surprised. Under his foot was a metallic can, something that wouldn't be found out in the Grimmlands on its own. It rattled a little underfoot, but as he crouched down to inspect it – wondering if there might yet be people out here – he paused. There was a piece of string looped through a hole in the side of the can, and a number of pebbles and stones inside.

It was a part of Jaune's alarm system. "Some alarm," he mumbled, putting it back down carefully enough that it didn't rattle again. How embarrassing- they both must have slept through its fall to the ground. He considered putting it back but thought better of it. He didn't know where the rest were, and if he set them all off then Jaune would no doubt wake up in an even worse mood than he'd gone to sleep in. He thought about doing nothing and going back to sleep, but the thought of Jaune finding it in the morning and realizing he'd walked over his little alarm and then did nothing…

"I'd better wake him up," he decided, sighing. Putting the can back down, he stalked over and crouched next to the teen, shaking his shoulder. "Jaune. Jaune, wake up."

"Ung…" Jaune grumbled. "Is it morning?"

"Not quite. There's something wrong with the traps."

The hunter instantly reached for his bow and was up and on his knees inside his bag in seconds. His eyes scanned the area, even as he reached for his arrows, where a new wooden batch was being made by the fabricator. Ren cringed at Jaune's haste, realising that he hadn't exactly phrased that as he ought to have. He'd blame the late hour if asked.

"We're not under attack. One of the traps failed or fell. I didn't want to leave it in case something happened."

The bow lowered. The hunter sighed and blinked wearily. "Right…" He yawned. "I guess you're right. Better safe than sorry." He hooked the bow back behind him on his belt and cracked the bones in his back, stretching. "Alright, city boy. Show me the trap you broke."

"I didn't trip it," Ren protested. "You'd have heard it if I did. It must have fell to the ground."

"My traps don't fail. I know what I'm doing. You sure you didn't break it going for a piss?"

"Yes. And this one did break." Ren said. He led Jaune over to it before the hunter could argue, and once he was there he pointed to the can on the ground, still attached by string. "See? If I'd set that off it would have caused a racket."

"It should have done anyway," Jaune said, yawning and crouching down to pick it up. "It's a tripwire with the can placed in a tree. Whatever sets it off drags the can out, and the stones rattle around loud enough to wake the dead. Or us, hopefully before we join them. Even if this fell we should have heard it."

Ren shrugged. "Maybe we slept through it."

"Maybe," Jaune acknowledged, frowning in the dark. "I must be more out of this than I thought. That kind of fatigue gets a hunter killed." He sighed and moved to the nearest tree. "Good catch on spotting it, I guess. And waking me up to let me know. Maybe nothing will happen but it's not worth the risk." Tired as he was, it was nice noting that Jaune's mood had risen half a notch… though only half, given the sleep.

Jaune stood on his tiptoes to reach a low bough, can in one hand and the string trailing behind him. He grunted as he hopped a little, placing it in a spot that would hold. The string wasn't taut, however. Ren frowned and moved over to touch it.

The string fell slack to the forest floor.

"Uh, Jaune?"

"What is-" The hunter froze, waking up for real. "What the hell?"

"Did it snap?"

"Anything that could should have set off the trap." Jaune picked up the end and inspected it, eyes suddenly wide and alert. "That doesn't make any sense, though. It's always worked before. The can should have been ripped out the tree if something broke this."

"It did. It was on the floor. We just didn't hear it."

Jaune made to answer but decided against it. He hurried past, leaving Ren to follow in confusion as the hunter jogged several metres around the camp, reaching another tree. He knelt and felt around the base, then came up with another piece of string. Another frayed end of a piece of string, that was. "This trap is gone as well," he whispered. "They're not connected to one another. If one fails, the others would still work."

Ren followed the other chord off toward a tree with his eyes. The other end was hung over a low bough. There was nothing on the end of it. No can, no trap, no alarm. Nothing.

It was all gone. Half the traps protecting that side of their camp were gone.

All that was left was a loose piece of thread swinging back and forth.

* * *

 **CF's Notes:**

* * *

 **Not much to say, except that progress is being made… slow as it may feel. Darn 2-week updates (and real-world distractions). Next chapter will definitely have a payoff and development worth the name as we face our latest threat.**

 **But what is it? And what do our boys face? Find out next time, on Hunter or Something.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 31st March**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's the chapter.**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

* * *

Ren stumbled and nearly fell. He managed to catch himself on a log at the last second, where he panted for breath. His lungs burned, as did his legs, and it felt for a moment like he might collapse then and there.

"Keep moving!" Jaune growled harshly, tugging Ren to his feet and dragging him on. "We can't stop here."

"I-I know. I just need a second."

"We don't have a second."

He groaned past his pain and forced his limbs to push on, stumbling after the hunter as he cut a ferocious pace through the twisting plains. It felt like they'd been hurrying for hours. They probably had. The second Jaune discovered his traps broken he hauled them down, stored them away and destroyed the camp. They'd been moving ever since, hours before the sun rose and then for hours afterwards.

Ren had already been exhausted before. Now, everything was worse. A Huntsman's stamina was naturally higher than the average person's, but that didn't take into account how worn he already was. It was Nora with the limitless energy, not him.

A root tangled itself around and over his foot. Ren pitched forward, crying out in surprise and slamming down onto the mossy ground. Jaune's gasp was startled and his bow was already out when he turned. His eyes caught sight of Ren, flat on the ground, and he growled angrily.

"Get up, damn it. Hurry!"

"I-I can't," Ren wheezed – and it pained him to admit it but he really couldn't. "We can't –huff- keep up this pace. Neither of us can."

"I'm fine," Jaune claimed, despite his heavy breathing.

He wasn't. Sweat dripped from the hunter's face, while his eyes were wide with bags beneath them. Neither had slept long enough and now this trek was sapping what little reserves they had left. They wouldn't make it to whatever camp Jaune had in mind, and even if they did they'd both pass out before any defences could be set up.

"W-What are we even running from?"

"I'm not sure."

"Then why are we running so fast?"

" _Because_ I'm not sure."

"Then why," Ren took a pause to wheeze, "do you think they're bad?"

"Because no one good tries to dismantle my traps without introducing itself first. If it was someone just trying to introduce itself, I wouldn't be worried. Now come on- I want as much space between us and it as possible."

The hunter moved forward to try and tug Ren up, but his own strength faltered, and he slumped down to his knees gasping for breath.

"Damn it," he whispered, curling his fingers and gathering the strength to try again.

"We need rest," Ren said, not unreasonably and not quite begging. "We're not going to keep this pace."

"We can't afford to slow down."

"We can't afford not to," Ren said, even as he cast his head up and tried to regain control of his breathing. "We've already been moving half the day."

Jaune cursed but he knew the truth in those words. He was more used to surviving out here than Ren was, but even Ren know how blind panic and haste could unmake a man. Jaune didn't give the feeling of a man running for his life… but Ren was starting to lean how 'fear' could take many forms, not all of the panic.

"Fine," Jaune conceded, no doubt feeling it too. "We'll take a rest for now – but not too long. Four hours max, with someone keeping watch at all times. That should give us time to take a nap before we move again."

Ren didn't argue. A power-nap sounded perfect. He reached for his bags, preparing to bring out equipment to camp, but Jaune caught his hand before he could. "What?" he asked. "Aren't we going to make camp?"

"No. Not now. It's too dangerous."

"Fire keeps animals away. Not to mention if anyone is looking for us the smoke will be a sign."

"That would be the _point_ ," Jaune hissed. "Nothing good is looking for us right now. Not your friends, not my family, nothing. The _only_ thing that would be looking for us right now is whatever paid us a visit last night," Jaune stressed. "And I've got a feeling we don't want to mess with it."

"What is 'it'?" Ren asked, putting his bag away. At the moment, it didn't seem to bad a loss- he could probably pass out on the ground. But still… "You're not normally this afraid of Grimm."

"I'm not," Jaune said, even as he was already moving to string up the alarms around them. He hesitated at one, clearly wondering if they'd be any use at all, before he cursed and went ahead with them anyway. "But I don't think this Grimm, and there's a difference between 'fear' and 'respect.' I have a healthy respect for anything that can sneak up on me and my alarms. How many Grimm do you know that could do that?"

Break a trap, but NOT attack? Ren shook his head. "None," he admitted. "Grimm don't do that… do they?" he checked.

"None I've ever heard of," Jaune said. "Animals don't do that either. So what else does that leave?"

If it's wasn't animals, or Grimm, that left…

"People," Ren reasoned, but then realized the implications. "I thought you said the frontier was abandoned! If there's people here, why-" he began, but realized an implication. "Why do I get a feeling this isn't good news?" he finished.

"Because you're learning," Jaune grunted, as he pulled a vine taught between two trees and wrapped it around one. "And because whoever it was wanted to sneak in rather than say 'hi' like a good guest."

"Who was it?" Ren wondered.

"I don't know," Jaune admitted, "I hate to admit it, but… not everyone who came to the frontier is good people, and not everyone who should have evacuated was. You Kingdoms let some real crazies loose on the frontier at times, you know that?"

Ren didn't, but he could see why. Call it leniency or laziness, but it was easily easier to exile some people from the capitals than to throw them in a penitentiary and hold them at everyone else's expense for however long.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Jaune said, taking Ren's silence for an answer. "That's why I'm wary. Whatever- whoever- this is, it won't find us unawares this time." Jaune threw his bedroll on the ground and kicked it open but didn't crawl inside. Instead, he just lay on top of it. "You want first watch or second?"

"First," Ren answered instantly. He didn't fancy the prospect of three hours' sleep and then three hours stood still. Better to watch first and sleep before they moved.

"Fair enough. Wake me in two – and do not leave the camp," Jaune warned. "No matter what happens, stay here. You need to take a leak I'd rather you do it on me. If you hear something suspicious-"

"I'll wake you up."

"Good." Jaune nodded and rolled into his blanket. It was probably only long practice that let the hunter fall asleep within just a few short minutes. Ren envied him that. He was too busy scanning the horizon warily.

It was quiet.

Not an animal could be heard.

/-/

The hours passed in relative peace. He'd say relative because it was not entirely restful, nor was it calm. The sun was up, the time being somewhere after midday, and the birds sang as they cut through the air. Most of that went ignored, however. Ren kept a hand on the grip of one of his weapons and the other on a piece of string leading to Jaune's trap array. Like a spider on a web he'd feel any vibrations were it tested, but so far he'd felt nothing.

Honestly, it could have been nothing. The traps might have been sprung by animals, weakening branches or just poor placement by Jaune. All this fear might be for nothing and he tried to tell himself that.

It was just hard to believe it. The Grimmlands had a way of making you think the impossible was possible, and after seeing Mouk in person he couldn't doubt it anymore. Doctor Oobleck had once told them of intelligent Grimm, but those were usually ancient varieties and very large. He'd have heard something that big approaching their camp, and it wouldn't have been able to cut through string so precisely.

"Arf!"

Ren's head perked up. "Not again…"

Another bark sounded, this time a little further away – down in the plains. It almost sounded like, not in the direction they'd come from, but the direction they were headed. Was it the same dog? Could the dog be barking at whatever had visited them?

 _"I hate to admit it, but… not everyone who came to the frontier is good people, and not everyone who should have evacuated was. You Kingdoms let some real crazies loose on the frontier at times, you know that?"_

Or… could the dog possibly _belong_ to someone?

Jaune had said he didn't know who their chaser was, but this had once been a human settlement. Was it possible someone else was still alive out here? His guide sleeping behind him couldn't have been the only hunter in the area. Maybe they'd found someone else's hunting companion.

Or maybe it was just a dog. The question was; did he wake Jaune?

"Arf! Arf!"

It wasn't getting any closer. Whatever it was certainly wasn't barking at them. A wild animal would have taken a much more silent approach, sneaking up to try and catch scent or sight of them. Dogs barked to warn others away, or to attract attention in the domestic variety.

"Hngh…" There was a grumble from behind him, followed by the shifting of fabric. Jaune yawned loudly and pushed himself up. While not rested, the hunter looked a little more alive. "Is it – yawn – is it time for us to switch?"

"Close enough," Ren answered, Jaune's yawn forcing him to echo with one of his own.

"Right…" Jaune stood wearily, leaving the sleeping bag open. It was clear he intended for Ren to use the same one, and he was too tired to argue. It would be soft and warm and that sounded nice. "You should have woken me up normally, though," Jaune said. "We don't want to make much noise out here."

"I didn't make any noise."

Jaune paused. "You didn't?"

"I heard something." He nodded off toward the east. "It sounded like a dog barking in the distance."

"A dog… out here? Are you sure?"

"That's what I heard." Ren paused, waiting for it to opine again. It didn't. Typically, the moment he wanted to prove it the silly thing went quiet. "It wasn't me though, I promise."

"If you say so," Jaune said, maybe not believing but clearly not intending to fight about it. "Must be a stray." He sighed and took a seated position on a low rock. His bow remained close to hand, even as his quiver was by his side. "At least I hope it's a stray. Get some sleep, city boy. You'll need your strength."

/-/

The moment Ren awoke, they were moving again.

The rest had given him what little strength it could, enough to let his aura work a little more on his leg and for the fatigue to creep back to just a dull ache rather than the imminent-collapse risk he'd been before. He knew Jaune felt it too, for the hunter's gait was just a little steadier.

"We'll continue on until dark and take another rest," Jaune said, cutting through some bushes and pushing into a copse of trees. "We need to make distance from whatever it was we ran into, see if we can get out of their neighbourhood We'll try for four hours each tonight. I know it's not much, but we don't have the time to waste daylight."

Ren nodded to show he understood. Four hours, while not much, still meant eight hours in one spot between the two of them, and that was too much time to lose. While they'd slept in the Grimmlands with no one standing guard before, as much out of necessity as anything else, the added risk of their traps being useless was too much to take. One of them staying up at all times was inefficient but necessary.

On Team JNPR it had been easier. With Huntsmen, the warning-value of aura and honed reactions were often enough. Even when they weren't, with four members each could take two hours, leaving six hours for everyone on even the harder nights. Here, the four and four felt so little and so much at the same time. It would be hard to keep that up for long.

The two crossed through the small wooded area and out into another meadow, the sound of a babbling creak or river echoing nearby. They stopped only long enough to refill their canteens before Jaune pushed them forward again. The sun had just started to set as dusk approached, bathing the land in vibrant hues of colour, and against that Ren spied a herd of deer grazing on a plain beside another small forest. Jaune saw it too and hesitated- and not just because Ren's stomach growled too.

"We are low on food," Ren whispered.

"I know…" Jaune bit his lip and looked behind them. As ever, there was nothing to be seen and no sign of pursuit. There hadn't been a glimpse of a threat during their camp, either. Ren thought about raising that… but decided not to. Left to his own deliberations, the hunter sighed and shuck off his pack once more. "I suppose it would be stupid not to give it a go. We do need to eat. Watch these for me."

Ren nodded and held onto the second pack as Jaune unhooked his bow and went to work again. The pack was obviously a different one to last time, smaller and with a stag with not quite so impressive a set of antlers. Without the rain the noise they made carried further, as did their scent, and it was clear from Jaune's slower pace that he recognised that. He crept close but not quite as close as he had a day or two before. Through experience and constant exposure, he probably knew how far he could be without tipping them off.

He rose steadily, bow drawn and arrow nocked. With a whoosh the arrow flew. The shot was good –made easier from the lack of any wind and flying further with the newly remade wooden shafts. It bit into the flank of a doe, somewhere between the neck and shoulder.

It staggered to the side, but as the rest of the herd bolted into the woods it loped and stumbled after them. A second arrow slapped into it as it reached the treeline, striking lower on its side. It stumbled again but managed to push into the trees after the herd.

"Damn it!" Jaune cursed as Ren approached with packs in hand. "This really isn't my day…"

"They were good shots." It was no small distance.

"They weren't good enough," the hunter quibbled, shrugging his backpack on. "It'll bleed out soon, but not soon enough. I was trying to drop it with that second shot."

"We could follow it," Ren suggested.

Jaune bit his lip. "We could…"

That would, of course, mean taking a small detour from their journey. But if the wounds were as grievous as Jaune said then it wouldn't be a long one, and they _did_ have an easy trail of blood to follow. Even so, he left the decision in the hunter's hands.

"We might as well," Jaune finally agreed, sighing. "We're headed through here anyway and I've already killed the poor thing. Feels a shame to do that and not even eat it. We'll be quick, though. If we don't find it in five minutes we're backing out before it gets too dark."

"That's fine with me," Ren said, though it really wasn't. He could deal with the dark- but he couldn't do much about the hunger gnawing at the inside of his belly. In all the rush, Jaune hadn't even stopped for a proper meal, just handing out snippets of yesterday's haunch.

It was already beginning to turn dark as they entered the woods and the thick canopy cut off even more of the light that remained. Luckily, there was enough to make their way by, and the blood splatters from the deer stood out against the moss, fallen leaves and muddy floor. It wasn't a constant flow as each splotch was maybe a metre or so away from the last, but they were close enough that Jaune had no trouble. It occasionally led to situations where the trail appeared to end, but a quick scan around from the two of them would discover some red on a nearby plant, or maybe some broken twigs that would point in the direction of another patch.

As five minutes came and went it became increasingly clear Jaune wanted to call the whole thing off. "It's gotten away," he said. "It's food for the carrion now."

"We've already come this far," Ren argued. "It can't have gotten much further. Look how close the splotches are. It's slowing down."

"I know, but it's getting late. I'd have to light a fire to cut the meat from it and that might alert someone. We might as well-" Jaune cut off as he pushed through some bushes.

There, laid on the floor before them, was the deer. It was dead, of course.

"I told you it would be close," Ren said, _trying_ not to gloat.

"Laugh it up, smartass." Jaune knelt and touched a hand to its neck. "It's gone." He glanced up toward the canopy and frowned as the last rays of light no longer hit the forest floor. The shadows seemed to get deeper and darker every minute. "And it's dark too. Damn."

"You need a fire?" Ren offered, hoping the offer would convince Jaune not to give up now.

"A small one. Just enough for a little light. We're not cooking this here."

Ren put down his sack and drew out some logs, pushing them aside as he reached for tinder instead. If they just needed a small flame to see by and not to draw attention, then tinder and dry sticks would work just as well.

Jaune prepared a bed of rocks for them, stacking some up and clearing some dirt beneath it. "It'll keep the fire from spreading," he explained. "Just set it going and I'll get to work. This is going to be quick and bloody. We have to keep moving."

"I know, I know. I'm not exactly new to this anymore."

"Heh, I guess not."

Using the flint and steel Jaune kept on him Ren struck a few times, generating some sparks and catching one in the tinder. He cupped it between two hands and blew gently into it, nurturing it to life as he'd seen his companion do time and time again. Starting fires had always been a pain for Team JNPR, but Jaune made it look easy. To his relief, it was easy here as well. Maybe he was learning.

Soon, he laid it back down among the twigs, feeding some more in as a small fire crackled to life. Even though it wasn't very big the light from it carried, casting shadows around them.

Jaune took a knife to the deer's flesh but looked back to Ren. "Keep watch. We're at our most vulnerable here."

"There haven't been any Grimm around all day," Ren pointed out.

"I know. That worries me. It's unnatural."

Ren stood with Stormflower drawn as Jaune got to work. He hadn't considered it before but now that it was pointed out he couldn't quite get Jaune's words out of his head. Grimm didn't attack other Grimm, much like they didn't attack animals. Even if they weren't as stirred up here with no Bullhead crash and huntsman battle to alarm them, they should have seen some Grimm by now, even if they were just wandering around. It was bizarre. It was, as Jaune said, unnatural.

 _Why? Did someone clear them out? Maybe a Huntsman_? Jaune had said Huntsmen used to do that from time to time… but since the frontier was abandoned?

Silence permeated the forest as Jaune went to work cutting through the deer's fur. He worked methodically, breathing quickly as he sectioned off some meat and stripped it from the body, heedless of the blood and smell. Plastic wrapping crinkled as he removed some to store it in, wrapping up the segments and storing them back into his pack.

"It's done," he whispered, standing.

"What about your arrows?" Ren asked.

"They weren't there," Jaune said, sounding uncomfortable. "Must have brushed them off or knocked them out as it fled."

 _Then wouldn't we have seen them since we were tracking it?_ Ren chose not to ask that question. He knew Jaune was aware of it, and that the lack of an answer bothered him as much as it did Ren. Leaving it unspoken wouldn't solve the problem but it let them pretend it wasn't there.

"We should keep moving."

Ren nodded. "Sure, I-"

Some branches cracked and snapped toward the west. Ren froze for a second but soon ducked low, hiding as best he could with Jaune doing the same next to him. Speak of the devil and it would come, and to think he'd just been moaning about the lack of any Grimm. Well, there was no evidence it _was_ a Grimm, of course. It might have been another deer, or any other kind of scavenger drawn by the scent of a fresh kill.

He readied Stormflower, but Jaune's hand caught his wrist. The hunter shook his head and spoke in a quiet voice. "Leave it. It's not worth it. We've got what we came for; we should leave." He nodded to the east, their previous destination.

"What about the fire?"

"Distraction," Jaune whispered. Ren nodded back, understanding. It was small and contained and unlikely to spread in the recently soaked forest, and if it kept their pursuer busy for a few moments then that was more time for them to escape.

Whatever it was, it was close. It had snuck up on them again.

"Back away," Jaune mouthed, motioning in the direction they were to head. Ren nodded and followed as silently as he could after his companion. While he wasn't quite as stealthy as the hunter he was still the best on his team, second only to Blake among their close friends. He kept himself from stepping on any of the numerous fallen branches in their path and followed after the hunter. Nothing followed, at least not immediately. Ren strained his ears to catch any sound of their pursuer, but it didn't sound like it had pushed through the bushes at all. Maybe it _had_ just been some wild animal.

For a second, he took his eyes off the path ahead, looking back towards the camp fire. It proved his undoing. Something caught his foot and he stumbled. It wrapped around his ankle, and although Ren tried his hardest to land gracefully, rolling over one shoulder, the sound of clanking metal and stone echoed through the forest suddenly. Birds took flight toward the sky, squawking in panic.

"I'm sorry-" Ren tried to gasp, but a hand clamped down over his mouth. Jaune moved quickly, grabbing whatever it was wrapped around his foot. He felt an idiot for not noticing, but that anger soon turned to shock.

His foot was tangled and wound up in a thin string, the thread having caught and tangled his legs. The noise hadn't been from his pack either, as he'd successfully broken his fall. It had come from a metallic can resting on the floor, filled with stones.

Ren stared at it, and then to Jaune, as the startled birds flew away in the distance.

"It's mine," the hunter whispered, eyes wide. "I mark my cans. That's… it's the one that was taken last night…"

Hours - miles - away from here, all the way to the west. Now set up in a position for Ren to trip over and set it off as they headed east.

A shadow behind them cut off the light from the fire, and Ren's eyes watched the campfire light a good hundred metres or so away. It was snuffed out instantly, unnaturally.

Grimm didn't snuff out fires like that. Nothing natural did.

Jaune's knife slashed through the string binding his feet. "Get up!" the hunter hissed, hauling him to his feet. "Run. Hurry!"

Ren did. With his heart beating and his breath coming out in sharp gasps he fled after the hunter, throwing all pretense of stealth and silence aside. It was too late for that now. They hurtled through the underbrush, though always with Jaune in the lead and keeping an eye out for anything that might prove their undoing. Behind them, Ren caught the sound of something. It was impossible to place what it was. He didn't dare look back again for fear he might trip again and cost them their escape.

It was getting closer. He thought he heard panting, like breath, like something exerting itself to catch them.

"The treeline ends up ahead," Jaune shouted. "Break out and face him there. Don't let him hide in the dark!"

It was the best shot. Ren pushed his legs just that little harder, closing the distance between Jaune and he as the trees came to an end and a plain presented itself once more. They burst from the forest with twin gasps, Ren sliding as he dug a foot in and turned, tearing both his weapons from his waist and aiming them back toward the trees.

Nothing appeared from them.

The night air was still and silent.

This time, he didn't let it fool him. There was no mistaking what just happened. Not at all. Ren kept his gaze on the trees and his guns levelled as he took slow steps back, putting himself closer to Jaune, who had his bow equally aimed at the trees, an arrow nocked.

"He's not leaving the trees," Jaune hissed. There it was again - that pronoun. _Him_. Had Jaune figured out something? Time for that later.

"Can you see him?" Ren asked, hoping the hunter's eyes could see through the darkening underbrush better than his.

"No. If I was a faunus maybe, but it's too dark. It's watching us, though."

"I know," Ren said. "I can feel it." And he could - the prickling sensation of being watched by a malevolent intent, the first instinct every Huntsman was taught to trust. _If you think you're about to be attacked… you are._

Jaune's breath came out heavily. It was clear the hunter was panting, not made for sharp sprints like that. "We have to keep moving," he said, lowering his bow. "We can't stop here."

"It'll follow. It's hunting us."

"Yeah, and like a hunter, too." Jaune said, bitter not at all admiring. "Keep your eyes peeled, Huntsman. The moment we leave this clearing it's going to follow us through the woods again. We can't afford to get caught outside tonight. Time's on his side."

It was already dusk, with the last glimmers of sunlight barely brushing the treetops. Truly, the couldn't afford to tarry. Whatever- whoever- was following them was at least as fast as them by day, and likely more so at night. Ren spared one last glance towards the dark woods, half-expecting to see glowing red eyes staring back.

He saw nothing.

Somehow, that was worse.

/-/

"This will have do," Jaune panted, pausing at the entrance to a cave- if it could be called that. It was more of a burrow in the side of a hill, but deep enough that the inside couldn't be seen from the outside. The hunter was drenched from yet another evening shower and Ren wasn't much better.

"I thought you hated caves," Ren remarked, not necessarily disagreeing. "Only having one entrance and all."

"Yeah, but only one entrance to watch too. And tonight, I don't think we have a choice." Jaune ushered him in and quickly bean to work his traps.

Before, he'd laid them sparingly, hiding them off as much and as subtly as he could. This time it was different. He set them up like a web over the entrance, making the string so obvious that it served more as a barrier than a tripwire. "Let's see the bastard try and get through that," he said, stepping back.

He wasn't taking any chances. Good. Ren didn't want to either. Still…

"Do you think that will work?" Ren asked, watching Jaune step back. Jaune paused, knowing what Ren was getting at. A web of trip wires would alert them… but would do nothing to stop a determined assailant from bursting in.

"…I think so," Jaune said, not as reassuringly as Ren hoped. "If it's who – what - I think it is, they shouldn't push their luck. But no sleeping inside the bags tonight. I'm sleeping with my weapon out, and you should too. Be ready to fight even when you're not on shift."

"Of course," Ren agreed, demonstrating just how close his weapons were by dropping them from his sleeves. Then he brought them back up and looked at Jaune. "Are you going to tell me who's been chasing us now that we're not running?"

"Over our meal," Jaune agreed, sitting down and drawing out his pack and the meat he'd taken. "No fire, though. On the off chance our pursuer doesn't know where we are, I don't want to give us away. Plus, tonight's not a night to kill our night vision."

Ren grimaced, but nodded. Jaune was clearly playing it safe, which meant he'd have to too. Even if it meant- gulp- eating mostly raw meat. Ren grimaced, and not just at the taste, but what choice did they have? His own stomach growled, a compelling counter-argument against his traditional stance on food hygiene. Yes, cooking was and should always be preferred, but if it was a choice between raw food or no food at all…

His body needed anything it could, especially after such a hard day.

"Let's at least use the fire dust," Ren suggested. It might not cook the food, but it would help warm their bellies.

"Sure," Jaune agreed, and that was that. A little preparation- just a little canteen water to wet the fingers before rubbing in the 'spice'- and then a whole lot of looking at bloody, raw meat. Telling himself it was venison, as if that was higher class, only slightly helped.

Jaune, it seemed, was used to it. Ren nibbled at is, trying to get it down piece by piece. And once he had his fill- once he was ready to be distracted- it was time for Jaune to satiate his curiosity.

"So," Ren prompted, not particularly subtle. "Who's our mysterious friend?"

Jaune sighed and put down the bit of meat he'd been chewing on. A bit of blood slid down his chin, reddening his lips as he looked at Ren in turn. He didn't look ecstatic- he didn't even look confident- and it was telling that he didn't look reassured by what he thought he knew.

"I'm not sure this is totally right," Jaune warned, a humble preface if there ever was one. "Before today, I didn't even think it was real. I thought it was just something Dad told me to keep me close to home. But if it is real… well, it'd make sense," he said.

"The good news is, this guy isn't unbeatable. Not like Mouk. The bad news is that in his own way, he's even more dangerous. He's strong, but more than that he's clever. And definitely has a taste for young boys." It felt like there was supposed to be a chuckle. Instead Jaune sighed and leaned forward where he sat until his own bent leg was pressing into his chest. He held himself up, like someone needing any sort of hug, before he continued. "Tell me, have you ever heard of the Beast of Brakken Fen?"

"No," Ren said, sitting. Perhaps a story was what he needed to help calm down. Or just to pass the time. "Tell me."

"It starts a decade or so ago, or so the legend goes..."

/-/

 _The Beast came without warning. One moment the small community on the outskirts of the forest known as Brakken Fen were as peaceful as could be, the next, tragedy. Two boys – not a year or more apart and ten to twelve summers at most – had gone missing in the Brakken. The forest was mostly safe on account of the hunters that scanned it for game, reducing Grimm wherever they could, and everyone knew not to travel too far. Accidents could happen, however, and so it was that the hunters mobilised in the dead of night to find the children._

 _One hunter, a faunus known locally as Pete, was the one to find them, or at least their remains. Pete was a faunus and his night eyesight allowed him to spot the trails of blood his fellows could not. They traced them to a small cave, whereupon they found the gruesome fate of the youths._

 _They'd been torn apart, blood and guts everywhere and the stench enough to send grown men scurrying for the bushes. The poor boys were no more, partially eaten in some cases – with inhuman toothmarks on their skin and pieces of their bodies scattered about. The fate of the children had been discovered, but with it came a new problem – the monster which had done it. The monster which came to be known as the Beast of Brakken Fen._

 _The people mobilised. They had lived on the frontier for many years and knew how to react when Grimm came near. Traps were set, parties of hunters were sent out, and the sentries stood on high alert. Some set themselves as bait, too. Hunters and fighters capable of defending themselves made attractive targets at the sites of ambushes, but still, the Beast did not strike. It eluded them time and time again, almost as if it knew what they were doing._

 _As weeks passed and no tragedy struck, the people began to relax. Perhaps it was a wolf which had savaged the boys, or maybe they had come across a single Grimm which had left the area or been slain. Children were warned not to enter the Brakken, but the village stopped hunting the beast. And, for a time, all seemed peaceful._

 _Until a wintry night not three weeks later, when the snow had befallen the village. A young boy had been sent by her ailing mother to gather wood, and, believing the task easier and the coast clear, he travelled into the Brakken. Just the outskirts, just enough to reach the trees._

 _Just enough to put himself in danger._

 _The village heard his screams. Swords were drawn, bows strung and pitchforks and axes collected. As one, men and women rushed towards the noise to save the boy and slay the beast. To the horror of all, they arrived late yet again. The boy was dead. His body lay savaged, one arm riddled with tooth marks, the head itself removed entirely and carried away._

 _They had known loss before, but this was too much. Something had to be done, and before it was too late. The greatest warriors of the village communed together, along with the mayor, and all decided on a plan of action to finally corner and kill the monster once and for all. For while it had eluded their traps and frustrated them in the past, they now knew its true goal. The Beast of Brakken Fen hungered for flesh, but more specifically it hungered for the flesh of the young. Children, teenagers, babies, the younger the better._

 _There was a young girl in the village who was training to become a hunter. She was known as Celeste, and although she was trained well she was but fifteen or sixteen summers. The mayor met with her and asked if she would help them and Celeste, having lost her brother to the beast, agreed. She would become the bait while the people set up their traps. And so, she set out with her trusty companion, a hound known as Rex, into the forest in the early hours of dusk. She did so without warning the people, for there were many who would have decried using a young girl in so dangerous a fashion._

 _Behind her, the best of the hunters followed, Pete, the hunter who had discovered the beast, along with the Farran, the strongest man in the village – the tree-feller – and Bill, the mayor himself, who would see the deed done with his own eyes, and his own spear if required. Never had so capable a party been seen, and they trekked through the forest nary making a sound. Pete sent his own hound ahead to scout, a trained and muscled dog known as Fiend._

 _Celeste was frightened and yet also resigned. The role of the bait was to lure the Beast, and she knew that would likely mean the death of her, for there were few who could reach her in time if the Beast struck. Even so, she did not shy from the task. Finding comfort in her companion, she moved on until a large clearing, the one the boy had died in before. His blood still stained the grass, a reminder of what was to come._ _For two hours they waited. The night grew cold and dark, and seeing became a difficult task. It seemed for the longest time as though nothing would happen, and Celeste allowed herself to relax a little._

 _Until, with a crash, Farran fell into the clearing – lifeless._

 _The Beast had struck, but it had not taken the bait as expected. It had instead struck at those who would spring the ambush. Screams rent the air. One from Celeste, one from Bill. The mayor fell into the clearing with a dark and lupine shape upon him. It gnashed and clawed at his face and knocked the spear from his hand._

 _Celeste, seeing her opportunity, fumbled to ready her bow. The night was dark and the light of the moon dim, yet she aimed a steady shot toward the monster, earning a yelp of pain from it. She also sent Rex forward, commanding him to attack as she prepared a new arrow and sought higher ground._

 _A dark shape tackled the girl down before she could. Eyes wide in the dark she fended off the monster as it bit and slashed for her throat. The hand she thrust into its jaw was bitten and bled, and the hands that held her loosened for a second in turn. She used that to place both feet against his chest and kick the beast away, staggering to her feet and searching for the bow that had been knocked from her hands. Something caught her ankle before she could and dragged her back down. Eyes glowed in the dark above her and a face leapt for her neck – ready to bite through her jugular in one violent twist._

 _But the jaws clamped hard on steel, instead._

 _Celeste had been no fool – and knowing her task had asked the local blacksmith to fashion for her a collar of iron that could be worn around the neck. The beast's teeth had cracked upon it and shattered, and the monster fell back, clawing at its face. It was then in the dark, as the moon passed between two boughs in the trees above, that she saw the beast truly for the first time. For a moment, her heart ceased to beat._

 _The Beast of Brakken Fen howled and brought one hand high to kill her – stunned as she was – but for a brown shape tackling the monster aside. Rex fought hard and bravely in defence of his master, already bleeding from a dozen wounds and with one leg hanging limp at his side. Even so, he bore the beast low and tore into it as best the poor hound could. The second Beast, which had finished the mayor, attacked Rex from behind._

 _Outnumbered, with weapon lost and against a foe she knew she could not best, Celeste was forced to flee. The time to do so was bought at the sacrifice of Rex, who remained to hold back the Beasts so that she might escape._

 _She did not have to travel far before discovering life. The village folk, having heard the screams, had mobilised and entered the forest with torches and pitchforks. They found Celeste, bloody and delirious, and helped her to safety. With tears in her eyes, the young hunter bade them aid Rex and the Mayor, to see if either had survived. As one, they travelled to the clearing to finish the Beast once and for all._

 _But alas, it was done. Rex lay dead, having given his life for his master. Of the mayor's body and Farran's, nothing remained but the pools of blood they had lain within. Their bodies had been dragged away for some horrible purpose. As Celeste wept over the body of her companion, she revealed the truth of the beast to the listening crowd. The Beast of Brakken Fen, which had haunted them for so long and eluded their traps, was no Grimm at all, but Pete. Pete the hunter, Pete the butcher of children._

 _Pete, the Beast of Brakken Fen._

/-/

"When the people returned to the village they looked through Pete's house and found signs of blood, and the remains of some children that had gone missing long before," Jaune said. "Many mysteries were wrapped up that night, though Pete himself was never found or brought to justice. Most assumed he'd died. How would a single hunter, even if they still had their hunting dog, survive alone in the Grimmlands?"

"And what happened to the village?" Ren asked.

"Fell when the others in the area did. Of Celeste, I've no idea. Maybe she died. Maybe she came to Edge or somewhere else. Maybe she wasn't called that at all or changed her name to forget what happened. I can't say."

Ren shook his head. The tale had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Grimm, he knew, criminals he knew, but someone like this? It sickened him. "And someone like that – a cannibal – lives among the people here?"

"I said before, not everyone who comes to the frontier is good people. And sometimes you Kingdom types let real crazies out here, so you don't have to deal with them." Jaune shivered, and Ren had a feeling it wasn't just from the wet and cooling night. "Pete never told the people why he left the Kingdom, or so I understand. Maybe it was because he couldn't. Some reasons will never be accepted; not even by the people out here."

"That's disgusting…"

"I don't disagree with you," Jaune said, standing to stretch his muscles. "I didn't tell you the tale for entertainment, so much as a warning. Grimm are easy to deal with once you get over your fear. Humans, on the other hand? Well, there's a reason we're considered apex predators."

And that was what they were possibly being hunted by. Ren shivered, unsure how much sleep he would be able to get, and if it wouldn't be plagued by nightmares either way. He wondered if Jaune had realised, and if he'd have still told the legend before bed if he had.

"Pleasant dreams, city boy."

Son of a bitch.

* * *

 **Okay, so, no notes included from CF at the end. I don't really make notes on this fic since it's entirely planned by CF. I just do the writing like some kind of monkey chained to a desk. Well, there you go. Hope you enjoyed.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 14** **th** **April**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	16. Chapter 16

**Here we go**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

* * *

When the morning came, neither of them felt rested.

Ren didn't because he'd been up for the last watch, sat wide awake and staring at the cave entrance and expecting a raging cannibal to tear through at any moment. Jaune didn't because even with his experience – or perhaps because of it – he hadn't been able to fully rest while aware that he was being hunted.

Neither was in the mood for conversation as they broke their fast. They ate a cold meal in silence, Jaune still unwilling start a fire and too surly to spend any time preparing a better meal. Ren wiped the residue of raw meat off his mouth and rolled up his sleeping bag while Jaune moved to the traps at the entrance and checked them. Only once he was content they hadn't been triggered did he begin to unravel them.

"Quiet night," Ren finally said, breaking the silence.

"Probably quieter for him," Jaune growled back. "Bastard knew we'd have to stand guard while he could sleep. He's wearing us down slowly."

"Wouldn't he have to be on guard against the Grimm?"

"Not if he has his dog with him," Jaune said. "Besides, didn't you say yourself how odd it was we didn't come across any Grimm? I hate to say it, but I think you were right. Something, or someone, has been hunting them." He stuffed the traps into his pack with a scowl. "Who knows, maybe if we're lucky he'll have been eaten in the night. Doubt it, though."

"Why?"

"Most Grimm ignore animals, but it's not the same the other way around. Any half-loyal dog would have been barking up a storm the moment they caught wind of a Grimm. That's why they're man's best friend."

And wasn't that the sound of a man without one? But Jaune was right- if they were right, they'd have heard that for sure, what with one being awake at all times. Ren nodded his head in understanding. It really did make sense for hunters to have dogs out here, as company, protection, tracking, animal retrieval and an early warning system.

It almost made him want to ask the obvious of Jaune. It was just as obvious that Jaune didn't want to talk about it, the way he shuffled to his pack and shucked it up with a sigh.

"Right, we should get moving. The more distance we put between here and our next camp, the better chance we have of ditching our friend."

Ren wondered about that but bit his tongue. They'd have to get to the abandoned frontier road eventually, when they turned south and headed back towards civilization. Hopefully their pursuer would give up then.

The early morning sunlight was a welcome relief from the light drizzle of the last few days, even if experience in the area told him that could change in an instant. The ground was wet but not mushy and Jaune kept them to the firmer routes away from the tributaries, apart from a brief visit to one to refill their water canteens. Not too hot and with a pleasant breeze, it was by no means a bad day to be on the march, other than the threat of pursuit.

That was a pretty big 'other,' though, and did nothing to make it any easier for a lack of sleep.

A quick look back revealed mostly empty meadows and sparse woodland. There hadn't been any sign of people following, or even a dog, and as they put the miles between their last location Ren started to wonder if they hadn't given Pete the slip after all. He tested the idea with Jaune.

"It's possible," the hunter admitted. "I won't feel comfortable until we know for sure, but someone like that wouldn't have survived this long out here without being cautious. Maybe he decided we were too much to deal with. Even a light wound out here can be fatal and we'd not go down without a fight. Of course, it's always possible he's _ahead_ instead."

"Ahead?"

"That trap yesterday was set in our path, so he overtook us the night before and laid it there. Faunus have perfect night vision, so he could easily be nocturnal and sleeping several miles ahead of us, waiting for us to catch up. There's only so many places we can go."

What a delightful thought that was. What little hope he'd managed to accrue faded. Pulling out the map of the area, he saw the now-familiar arrangement. On the north, a plateau. On the south west, Mouk's Grimmlands. And at the east… the Barrier Mountains, and just west of them, at their feet, the old frontier road that led from the plateau along a narrow plateau strip to the south.

No matter where they were on the plateau, it wouldn't be hard to guess where they'd have to go to leave.

In all honesty, it amazed him that someone could survive out here in the first place, hunting dog or not. Pete the butcher had been a hunter, so was experienced living off the land the same way Jaune was, but he doubted even Jaune could make a life out here permanently. Apart from the Grimm, there were threats like infection and disease, lack of supplies or any one of a thousand other silent killers.

With how disconnected the frontier seemed to be, he had to wonder why the cannibal hadn't just moved to a different village. It sounded cruel, but the chances of him being recognised were low and he could begin his reign of terror all over again. Living out here, now that the frontier had receded and there was no one left to hunt, just seemed like a lot of hard work- especially for someone with a decided lack of people to devour.

 _Then again, why am I trying to rationalise a psychopath? Isn't mental instability the whole point of someone like that?_

It was while Ren was deep in thought that his eyes strayed over a small set of bushes off the side of the path Jaune took them down. There weren't even any trees of forest, just five or six plants of various sizes that had for some reason chosen to grow together in one spot. Perhaps there was ground water underneath, he didn't know. But as he looked, he caught a flicker of reflected light.

"I see something."

Jaune ducked low. "What?"

"I… I think I saw reflected light, like a mirror… or metal." He pointed in the direction of the bushes, a good three hundred metres away at least. Jaune strained to look and for a moment Ren feared it would be proved nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

There! It flashed again!

"I see it," Jaune hissed. "Good eyes."

"Thanks." He decided not to mention he'd only noticed because he'd been trying to distract himself from the harsh pace they were keeping. "What do we do? Move on?"

Jaune frowned, thinking.

"It might be better not to. If it's he's trying to lay a trap, it might be better to turn it against him."

"How so? Do you want to lay an ambush for him?" Ren surprised even himself with how matter of fact he sounded, and even felt his blood chill in realization at his own train of thought. Tired or no, Huntsman or no, if the first warning he had of Jaune's presence was a dust-tipped arrow racing towards his face…

Jaune chilled too, likely at the same bloody image, and turned to Ren with a sharp glare.

"Don't even think about it, Huntsman," Jaune hissed. "I don't care what sort of monster he is- I'm a hunter, not a Huntsman, and I will _not_ hunt people! I am not a murderer!"

Ren flinched at Jaune's vehemence and held up his hand pacifyingly. "That's not what I-" he began but changed mid-tact. "What were you thinking, then?" he asked instead.

Jaune huffed, then again as he took a steadying breath, and then looked away to not meet Ren's eyes.

"I was thinking we could shoot his dog."

Ren blanched, civilizational instinct in favour of canines kicking in despite it all. "Really?"

Jaune nodded, though clearly not happy. "Faunus have better night vision, but their other senses aren't anything to talk about. It's the dog that prevents us from losing him, and that's on top of it protecting him from the Grimm. If we could take it out, we'd be giving ourselves a real advantage." He shook his head. "I don't care who you are - a hunter's not half as good as they are with their best friend and partner."

That… made a lot of sense, actually, as Ren's thoughts flickered to his own absent companion. Huntsmen weren't so different, though Ren doubted Jaune would appreciate the comparison. Still, one thing bothered him.

"So, you want to kill the dog, but leave the dangerous cannibal in one piece?"

"He won't be so dangerous without his hunting hound."

That wasn't exactly what he'd meant, and Jaune knew that well enough if his stony expression was anything to go by. A part of him wanted to point out how ridiculous that was, but was now really the time, when they had a killer after them?

"Alright," he said, letting the issue be. "I'll be on guard if he attacks," he said, slipping Stormflower into his hands.

"If he does, we flee," Jaune countered instead. " _Don't_ try to fight him. I don't think he'll, given how he's using traps so far, but if he does anyway he probably has a reason to think he can win. We want to take away his advantage, not fight him when he has one."

Ren frowned a little at Jaune's contradiction, but this was no time to argue. He nodded to Jaune, indicating he was ready.

"Play it casual," Jaune whispered. "We'll walk over there like we're changing path. If you see the dog, shoot it, and then we run away. We can afford to lose Grimm out here, but this guy is proving a problem."

Their change in direction and pace was about as natural as they could make it, which couldn't have been too convincing since it was after the huddle session of whispers. Even so, whatever was in the bushes couldn't exactly leave because that would require it to rush across open terrain. If their enemy was in there, his best bet was to stay low and hope they hadn't seen him

The glint in the bushes flickered again as they approached – and once they were within forty feet or so of it, the two broke into a sprint almost simultaneously. Ren went straight in while Jaune moved to a true, taking cover while hoping to cut off a retreat. As Ren reached the light however, he realised there was no such danger.

Or rather, the danger was of a different sort, one that had his sprint slow into a stop before he even reached the thicket.

"It's another trap," he called back, hesitating before a silvery canister that hadn't quite been properly hidden. Barely visible, but glinting when the light reflected off them, the wires criss-crossed between several branches.

Jaune stowed his bow as he approached, skirting around the now trapped bushes. "I guess that answers the question of whether he's ahead or behind. Still, why trap here? There's no way we'd come through this sort of brush naturally." Despite that, Jaune didn't sound, looking around warily instead. Was this bit of metal just bait for a greater trap? A little something to keep them distracted?

Nothing moved out there, though. Nothing Ren could sense, anyways.

"Is it one of yours?"

Jaune took the can and inspected it. It was a different shape to what he'd seen the hunter use, which answered the question even before Jaune did. "No, this is someone else's. The wire and technique are similar but the trap itself is different." He unscrewed the container and upended it, sprinkling dust and a few small granules of stone onto the grass. "It's not in good condition, either. Looks like he isn't taking good care of his tools." He made to throw it away, then thought better and stashed it instead. "Mind if I take the time to steal this string?"

"Take all the time in the world," Ren said, gratefully taking the opportunity to dump his bag and slump down into the cool, damp grass.

"Stuff like this can be too useful to leave behind," Jaune explained as he started to work on carefully unwinding the thread from the branches and twigs. "Have enough of it and you can repair clothes, close wounds or even fish in a stream. Besides, if this asshole thinks he's going to steal my traps, then I might as well do the same in return. You need some new bullets, don't you?" he asked.

Ren checked his weapons by instinct, but already knew the score. He'd been down to his last rounds since Mouk.

Jaune gave one of those rare grins of his and reached back to pat his ammo-fabricating quiver before picking up the can again.

"I think we just found your new shell casings. Add a little dust, and when we hole up tonight we could give you another clip or two for sure."

Ren chuckled and left him to it. There was no arguing, and the idea of slowly tearing down what their pursuer had to use against them was by all means a good idea. It was what he'd been doing to them. It might even convince him to stop chasing them entirely, lest he waste valuable wire and metal he couldn't replace.

But if he couldn't afford to waste it, why would he set a trap here of all places? The question bothered him more than he cared to admit. The one in the forest he'd fallen for before made sense because he'd pushed the two of them towards it, but this had only even caught their attention because of a lucky flicker of light. Animals, and humans, tended to take the easiest path around an obstacle, and this patch looked to contain more than its fair share of brambles and thorns.

One caught his eye, with a tuft of some dark string attached to it. He stood and moved over, removing it and holding them up before his eyes. It wasn't string at all. It was hair.

"Found something?" Jaune asked, slipping over.

"See for yourself. Human hair, you think? Or beard?" Shaving and hygiene had to be a difficult thing out here, which would explain why it was so wiry. Then again… Ren felt his own chin, and realized he had the first hints of a stubble starting to set in. He'd never been much for facial hair, and had tried to shave himself with Stormflower those first days in the cave, but in the week since…

"I think this is fur," Jaune said. "It's too coarse and long for human hair. Dark brown or black, probably from the dog. It- ow!" He tossed it aside in a hurry, as if it were course enough to cause a splinter. "That was rough," he said. "Still, they must have been here not too long ago. This probably would have blown away otherwise."

"And wouldn't they need to be near a trap for it to serve any purpose?"

"Yes." Jaune's eyes narrowed. He stood and looked towards the nearest woodland again, which was quite a bit larger than the last they'd been in and spread off towards the east. It certainly looked like the kind of haunting place a killer might live. "We could stick to the meadows and avoid them, but…"

"But they'd still follow us," Ren said. "You want to finish this now, don't you?"

"I'd rather be the one hunting than being hunted, but I don't want to be playing this game at all," Jaune said. "The sooner we shoot the dog, the better. Either he has a harder time tracking us, or if we're lucky he gives up when entirely. Maybe even nurses his mutt back to health. You have an issue with that?"

"Me?" Ren asked, surprised. "Since when did _my_ opinion matter?"

"You're the one I'm trying to get out of here," Jaune said gruffly. "And if he does attack, you're the one who's a greater danger to him, and so probably the one he'll target first. Just seems fair to ask since you've got a choice here, that's all."

He wasn't sure whether he should feel shocked or touched, even if Jaune's sentiment came with the slight backhand of not trusting him to hold his own against the cannibal. Either way, he decided not to comment on it. Doing so would only risk another argument.

What did he think about it? He wanted to get out of here, obviously. His thoughts had been on his friends ever since he'd gotten lost here and Beacon was a constant lure in his mind. He just wanted to go home. But was it really wise to leave someone like this behind them?

Every Huntsman learned that some problems, like some monsters, were best faced head on, not by running away from them. Mouk had been an exception to that, but an exception that proved the rule. You didn't have to be hard-headed to know monsters like the Grimm didn't let you back down without a fight.

"Let's finish this," Ren decided. "This isn't a Grimm; it's just some murderer. If we let him go now and he follows us, we might actually get caught between him _and_ some Grimm, and that might be the end of us."

"Alright," Jaune agreed, or perhaps ruled. "I don't care if he is a criminal, but I do care that he's not letting us go in peace. Aim for the dog and avoid a fight, and we should be able to get out of here alright."

/-/

Back in Edge, Qrow Branwen was uneasy. He was one brat short, and the longer it took him to see for himself that no one had been stupidly heroic enough to try and brave the Grimmlands, the uneasier he got.

He still hadn't seen the third brat of Team JNPR with his own eyes, and it'd taken him too long to realize no one else had either. Not her partner, who was with the Valkyrie girl. Not his niece, who'd visited but left early in the morning, saying her friend had wanted to be left alone. And no one had seen her since, despite the directions for everyone to be in vale. The flight corridor to Beacon- and only Beacon- was likely to open any day now, but no one had seen one girl in particular.

Somehow, hearing Zwei had been left as company wasn't reassuring. The brave little corgi was a lifesaver, true, but still…

It was a slow thing at first, building up as he checked one location and then another, hunting around Edge for anyone who'd seen the girl or knew where her family home was. "Should have kept an eye on her," he told himself, blaming and recriminating in turn. "You knew better. You knew damn well one of them would try something. I'm supposed to be better than this."

He never was, though. That was the problem.

Edge's people didn't seem overly impressed with him either and the pilot's words about her mother waiting for a huntsman who never came was probably a part of it. Frontier villages vanished all the time, Huntsman or no Huntsman, and busy as he was for Ozpin he didn't have as much time out here as he used to. Not like the old days, back…

Back when he was supposed to know better and didn't think kids would run through the Grimmlands given half a reason.

Qrow caught sight of Ruby and her partner on the walls, not standing guard but asking questions of the SDC soldiers there. He nodded to them as he passed below, grateful that they'd taken his warning to heart and agreed to help the village out. He'd have asked Yang and her badly-disguised faunus friend too, but neither were around. The faunus was apparently with her own kind, in the faunus quarter of the village, while Yang was in the mines of all places.

Taiyang would kick his ass if he found out his little girl was helping to mine dust in an SDC mine, but his old friend didn't need to know. Whatever kept her busy and out of trouble was a bonus right now. Besides, she wasn't hurting anyone – and when it came to Yang that was a good thing. From what he'd heard, she was actually getting on with some of the other miners, even buying them a round at the bar. At least one of them was even starting to talk with her.

That was better than the local attitude for his latest headache.

"The girl?" a pit-faced man spat, the latest of Qrow's interrogations. He smelled of tar and animal fat, yet he'd recognised the description and that alone was enough to make him stop and listen. "Ah didn' realise that brat came back 'ere. Thought Edge was too small for someone like her."

"You know her?" he asked.

"Ah know of her, or her family. Good folk, mostly," he said, nodding. "Men are hunters, wom'n skinners, or at least they used t' be. Can't say th' same about 'er, but there's always a bad apple in th' bunch. Always knew she was too good for dis place, if you know what I mean. Didn't stop 'er from robbing her family halfway ta blind on the way out."

It wasn't a new story to Qrow, but neither was it any of his business. People dreamed of becoming real Huntsman all the time, somehow believing it meant something special. The adventure, romance or some other silly nonsense about glory and duty and virtue. Being a real Huntsman was none of those things. It was a job, one you did well if you wanted to get paid, and because your own life was on the line if you didn't. Helping other people… well, that's just what you had to do to get paid. The alternative was robbing them, and there was a different name for the sort of fallen Hunters who'd use their strength against people than for them.

Still, those who spoke of glory and honor clearly hadn't tried racing through a Grimm-filled forest after a young boy who begged them for help, only to end knowing you'd never find the body.

Fun? Ha. Fun was for children.

"I've been told she's gone back to her family home," he said, "and that it's outside of the walls. Do you know where it is?"

"Who's askin'?" the man demanded, suddenly a whole lot more suspicious. Telling a stranger about a runaway was one thing but giving up the location of a family that was a part of their community was another altogether.

"Her teacher from Vale," he answered, the lie coming easily. "I'm supposed to take her back to Vale, but she's run off to visit home and left the group. I need to find her."

"You from Beacon?"

"Yes." Technically, anyway.

The man looked him up and down as though considering it, and even with his outfit covered in dust and grime it was still obvious from the colour, weave and the overall design that he wasn't some country bumpkin. The grizzled man nodded. "Alright. Easier for me to show you than explain it. Come in and I'll draw you a map. Might take a while but at least yet won't get lost."

"Appreciated, old timer." Qrow said, following him inside.

/-/

Jaune and Ren crouched low as they stalked through the forest. Jaune's bow was drawn and his own weapons were in hand, the hunter in the lead and he behind – ready to spring out at a moment's notice if they came under attack. Questions flashed through his mind; how strong would this man be? Would he have aura? Would he even be a threat without it? Of course he would be. It was that sort of thinking was what led him to underestimate Jaune in the first place and he'd promised not to do it again.

Would they have as much trouble with the dog as well? Quite possibly, since by the tale it was a man-eater like its master. Once upon a time he wouldn't have put much weight on that, but then he went to Beacon…

The questions were endless, and he ran through solutions to each in turn, finding some small familiarity in the feeling of a combat situation that had been absent before. This felt comfortable, or perhaps that was the wrong word – too relaxed to be true. It did feel familiar, though, to stalk through a forest behind a figure with golden blonde hair.

"Trap to the left," Jaune whispered. "Between the oaks – the one with the fallen log by the base."

Ren nodded, spotting it once it was pointed out. They skirted around it, Jaune leading to make sure they didn't spring any of the alarms and alert their prey. They must have been close now; they'd found more traps, and closer together, close enough that Ren and Jaune had started avoiding the traps rather than try to dismantle them and risk starting a sound. It was odd, though. Some were well-concealed and in the trickiest of places… but others seeming spread randomly through the trees haphazardly.

Perhaps that was a style- the obvious distractions from the well-hidden ones- but Ren's instincts didn't _feel_ like there was a common purpose to all of them. Some obviously were, but others…

They didn't stop to collect the trap this time, too focused on making use of the daylight hours remaining. The canopy cut out much of the sunlight, creating a strange sense of dim light akin to evening, rather than the afternoon it really was. There was enough to see by, however, and enough left that if this beast was nocturnal, he would still be at rest.

It was his dog they were worried about, though. A dog who not only would be on guard but might smell them even if he didn't hear them first.

Jaune held up a hand, stopping them. He pressed two fingers to the space between his eyes and pointed to the east. Ren nodded, moving over to watch that direction as the hunter stowed his bow and crept over to whatever it was he'd seen. Even with the quiet, Jaune felt confident enough to speak, if in a very low whisper.

"Something broke through here not too long ago. No tracks; the ground's too hard, but the branches here are parted to form a path."

"A path? Can we follow it?"

"If we're careful. Not even the best hunter can erase all signs of their passing, but they'll be aware of them. If he expects us, he'll trap this path and use it as bait." Jaune stood a little taller and motioned for him to follow. "Question is, is he expecting us?"

"I guess we'll soon find out."

They followed the path through the forest for several minutes, always keeping a good ten or so feet away but keeping it in sight. Every now and then they'd lose sight of it and have to approach again, until Jaune would find a sapling's branch bent a certain way or some other near-invisible sign that a figure had come this way recently.

Oddly, no traps impeded their approach. The longer they went without spotting one, the more paranoid Ren became, until he was checking the space in front of him with every step. If Jaune shared his worry, he hid it well, but the hunter's pace was no better than his own. His hands gripped Stormflower tighter. His eyes tracked the forest around him for movement. His muscles were tense, ready to snap into action at the slightest provocation. There was an arrow nocked to Jaune's bow, too. He had no idea when that had happened.

A shape slowly revealed itself from between the trees. Jaune saw it first and motioned for silence, pointing it out with a nod of his head. It was too large to be a person and too still to be anything alive. As Ren focused, he realised the straight lines were what truly made it stand out from nature.

It was a small house, or really more of a cabin nestled deep in the forest.

"I think we've found his home," Jaune whispered.

It looked like it, and there was a moment of surprise that the man _had_ a home, before Ren shook his head and cursed his imagination. Cannibal or not, if he'd lived out here on his own then he must have had somewhere to return to. The abode looked still and unassuming and on closer look more resembled a clumsy hut built from logs, mud and loose rock. It wasn't well-built by any imagination, but it was sturdy.

"I take it we're not going to go up and knock on the door." Or shoot a fire-arrow at it and be done with it.

"Not without checking it out first," Jaune said. "People _did_ live out here once, so this could be a woodcutter's outpost. And if it's empty, there might be something worth scavenging."

The tone of his voice made it clear he didn't believe that but was simply rattling off the possibility. A woodcutter would surely have known how to build something better than this and be somewhere he could deliver the trees he cut down. And an honest man wouldn't have needed so many traps around his home in the first place. It _had_ to be the Butcher's.

Motioning for quiet, Jaune led him closer to the building, sticking this time to the road and passing at least two traps tightly woven on either side. At last, the traps were revealed – naturally being close to the home itself. That there was a hole in the defences was foolish, but perhaps the person within hadn't expected to become the hunted or hadn't bothered checking in a long time.

Ren caught Jaune's shoulder before he got any closer. "Where's the dog?" he asked. "Is it inside?" A strange place to keep a guard dog, but…

"Can't be," the hunter's brow furrowed. "You wouldn't keep something like that inside if you didn't have to."

"Or they're not here," Ren suggested. "Why else would there be a clear path _leaving_ , and with no trap set in its place?"

The hunter tested the idea and found it to his liking, nodding his head after a few seconds. "You might be right. Nothing says he _has_ to hunt at night." He eased his bow down, not quite unstringing the arrow but at least holding it in his other hand. "We should check the place out. If he's not here, we can lay a nice little surprise inside."

"Should we trap the path?"

"No, leave it. We don't want to tip him off."

Jaune padded around the building and held a finger up. An ear pressed to the wood indicated him listening and Ren held his breath. Apart from the sound of his heartbeat and the occasional rustle of the wind through the leaves above, there was naught from inside. Tentatively, Jaune placed one hand on the wooden wall and tapped his finger twice. It was a quiet sound that barely echoed even to Ren's ears, but a dog inside would have probably noticed.

Nothing. Not even an animal shuffling around to investigate.

"I guess he's not home," Jaune said, standing a little taller. "Lucky for us."

"I can't believe we missed him in the forest…"

"He might still be back where we were before or waiting for us up ahead. He'll be on his way after us, and since we're coming close to his home he'll definitely pop in to resupply. We can catch him then."

Rounding the corner, they came upon the front door of the property, which was a ramshackle wooden thing with a handle made of three or four heavy sticks strung together with twine. Below and beside that, a little away from the wall, was a wooden post driven into the ground, attached to which was a chain.

Beneath that chain, blood.

Ren's stomach twisted.

"It's not what you think," Jaune said, noticing. "Look at the chain, there's no band on the end or anything to lock someone down. This is probably for the dog and clips on his collar." Jaune knelt and touched it. He didn't move it however, likely concerned to make too much noise. "The ground here is all torn up…"

"And the blood," Ren pointed out.

"Probably meat for the dog. Deer, rabbit…"

 _Human_ …

"You think he _fed_ people to his dog!?"

"Not any time recently. Frontier's been abandoned for years," Jaune reminded, before frowning as he stroked a hand in the dried blood. "Guess that means he hasn't been Cannibal Pete for awhile either, come to that. But something was eating here, and not that long ago. Can you smell that?" he asked, taking a whif. Ren couldn't- the sog of a week's journey dumbing his senses- but Jaune nodded to himself… but narrowed his eyes as well. "That's the smell of rotting meat."

"And all the ground up dirt?" Ren asked, indicating the torn soil beneath it, like some animal had raked its claws continuously through it.

"Digging, den-making or just attacking its prey," Jaune offered, not really looking down as he kept watch outside. "The poor thing doesn't even have a kennel. It'll almost be a shame to shoot it."

"The `poor thing` is eating people."

"Its master is eating people," Jaune countered, standing. "The dog is just doing as it's told. I'll put it down, but I won't hate it for loving its master any more than I would a child for the parent's sins."

He paused at the end of the chain, frowning down at what looked to be a broken link. With a sigh, he looked away. "We should go inside before he comes back. We don't want to linger outside."

The door creaked as it was pushed open. The stench of blood and death hit them immediately, and Ren gagged at what he saw.

Jaune summed it up in two words.

"Bloody hell…"

They'd found Pete the butcher, it seemed. Except he wouldn't be butchering anyone again, mostly on account of the fact half his body had been torn from itself, leaving his eyes bug-eyed and open on one side, missing on the other. His tongue had also been torn from his mouth.

He was, in technical terms, very, very dead.

And boy, did it reek. The scent of rotting flesh was overpowering, and he wanted to retch. He focused on his breathing instead, sheathing his weapons now that the immediate threat was… well… no longer along the living. He tried not to gag at that.

Jaune, in turn, took a breath and held it despite the… odour… and didn't sound the least bit overwhelmed by the grisly seen.

"Well," Jaune said. "I guess Pete the Butcher became Pete the Butchered."

"Really, Jaune? Really?"

"Too soon?"

Ren sighed. He'd almost forgotten what Yang was like, and now he had Jaune doing his best impression – and with the worst of timing, too. Somehow, Ren didn't think Yang would laugh in the face of death quite like this.

Ren stepped back and nudged the door open once more, hoping some fresh air would help remove the horrible stench. It also let in some light to show the scene. The interior of the dwelling was an absolute state, with gouges on the walls and a table sheared neatly in two. There was a spear on the floor, snapped in two, and a bow on the table, unstrung.

Whatever had killed the faunus before them had done so by surprise.

"Looks like a wild animal tore into him," Jaune said, strangely dispassionate, as he looked the body over. "It must have happened outside because you can see the bloodstain leading from the door. And it must have been recent too. Whatever happened, he was attacked outside and wounded. He crawled back here to recover, but whatever it was came after him, broke in and finished him off." Jaune eyed the bow on the table. "But what sort of hunters goes out without his bow? Why only the spear?"

"D-does it matter?" Ren stammered, half in horrified imagining and half in nausea. "C-Can we move on already?" Ren asked. "He's dead, and a lucky break for us. He must have been attacked by a Grimm yesterday after running after us. It couldn't have happened to a better guy."

Jaune frowned, staring at the bloody corpse, as if something didn't sit well with him. Besides the reek, that is.

"Monster or not, no one deserves to be left to the Grimm," Jaune muttered. "Maybe if we'd been here in time to save him, he would have let us go in peace."

Ren doubted it. In his experience, evil people didn't quite work that way, which was why the Kingdom needed Huntsmen. But still… it was a surprisingly soft note from his companion who was just as willing to shoot the late Pete's dog.

"Well, I don't think we have to worry about him anymore," Ren said. "Which means we can probably push on today too. I don't know about you, but I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to."

Jaune seemed a lot more ambivalent about that, looking up at the sky outside as well. The fact that you had to look out the walls to do that meant that technically they were in the first shelter they'd found since Ren was lost out here.

"It's getting dark soon and might rain tonight. We should probably make use of this place while we can for the night."

Horror pooled in Ren's stomach and he stared at the hunter.

"You can't be serious."

"We'll move the body out, of course, and set a fire with some scented herbs. I'm not suggesting we sleep next to this thing, but it'll be nice to have a real bed for once," Jaune said. Jaune sounded reasonable but looked perplexed at Ren's obvious disgust until something obviously came to mind.

"Is this your first time seeing a dead body?" he asked, guessing at Ren's shock. "It's just blood now. It's not going to do anything to you."

"I've seen dead bodies before but, well, I've never been asked to move one. Why have you?"

"Hunter, remember? But if you mean people, mine collapse." He said it like it was a common thing. Maybe it was. "Had to help haul bodies out of the wreckage while the SDC looked for other survivors. Made sticking to the wilds an easy choice." The hunter sighed and collapsed his bow, stashing it on his side. "Fine, fine, leave it to me. You get the fire started and I'll toss him in the woods nearby. Something will eat his body, or it'll decompose on its own."

"It looks like he's already halfway there," Ren pointed out.

Jaune paused. His eyes narrowed on the man, lips moving without any words coming forth. Suddenly, he stepped forwards, crouched and shook the man's exposed stomach. The sound alone was enough to make Ren almost throw up.

"Shit," Jaune cursed, not even noticing. "You're right. Call me tired but I knew something was off. He's way too decomposed. He's been dead a week or more, maybe two. This isn't good…"

"Why? One less problem to deal with."

" _Think_ , city boy. If Pete the Butcher died two weeks ago…

Ren realized it too.

"Then who's been hunting us?"

/-/

Qrow left the old man's hut what felt like hours later with a crumpled piece of parchment gripped between his fingers. The map was meticulously drawn, far in excess of what he needed, and failing to realize that explained much of the delay. Still, what he had was sufficient.

The hunter's commune – little more than a walled collection of houses – wasn't exactly far from Edge. The map was marked with lines to represent distance, and when Qrow had asked why the man had laughed in his face. Apparently, it was so that people like himself didn't get lost and walk past the place and into the wilds.

It had taken awhile but find it he did. Checking out of the main gates, Qrow made his way down a worn dirt path in the direction indicated, following not the contours or a compass, but rather a drawing of a road winding between trees on the left and a small hill on the right. He lowered the map and inspected the road, finding it just as indicated. "Guess I can't knock it if it works…"

There were no Grimm that threatened him along the way and little sign of them. Some deer appeared briefly from the woods on the left but vanished back at the sight of him. The soldiers from the SDC probably patrolled the route, which explained why anyone would feel safe living in such an out of the way place. Eventually, less than half an hour away, he came upon the ringed wooden walls of the commune. They were at least four or so metres high and reinforced several times where damage from high winds and rain had taken its toll. The tips were sharpened to spikes, making the climb a treacherous option. He could jump or fly over but decided to try the gate first.

It wasn't open, but to his surprise there was a small door near it, with a rope pulley system that revealed a latch he could pull. It was just complicated enough that a Grimm couldn't use it, while being simple enough for someone in the dark to do so. The smaller door clicked open and he slipped inside, revealing a wide courtyard area with a large bonfire and several wooden racks. Some had furs and animal skins drying on them while others had normal clothes doing the same. There were also two or three large wooden troughs fit for washing clothes or bathing.

There was even a kennel, and more than one dog seemed excited to see him, barking at the unfamiliar face. But it was an excited barking, not an angry one- and locked away in cages against the border wall as they were, it was obvious they only cared about one sort of intruder- the Grimm kind. Seeing just another human, the oldest among them laid back down and went to sleep soon enough.

The houses were a little larger too, and constructed of timber instead of mud, adobe or some other combination of the two. One house at the centre stood a little larger, though still smaller than Tai's cottage back in Patch. The lower floor, up to about a foot or two, was stone and rock, while the rest of it consisted of timber frame dyed a dark colour by resin or sap, presumably to keep it all from rotting in the rain.

And there, above the front door, he saw a crude sword and shield insignia scratched into the door.

"Well, here we are, and here she should be," he grunted, moving for the house. "Unless she's stupid enough to go wandering off unarmed in which case I'm not even sure I can be bothered anymore." He sighed and moved up to the door, hammering his fist on it.

The door was study, probably sturdy enough to hold out against a Beowolf for a little while, but nothing he couldn't cut if he had to. Still, even he drew a line at forcing his way into someone else's house. Instead, he made his presence known – and his impatience – by shouting through it.

"Oi, brat! What part of `stay in Edge` did you not understand? I get that you know the area but that doesn't mean we all do. What are you going to do if someone else gets lost trying to find you?" he called.

No answer. No Response. And no sound of any belated and embarrassed rush to the door either.

"Hey! Open up! Don't think I want go in there and drag you back to Beacon if I have to!" Qrow called, banging on the door even harder. "I've had enough trouble looking for you today, so you can-"

"Oh, put a sock in it you bloody stranger!" some other voice called from another abode. "If you want to bloody talk to her, just open the door and do it yourself! Bloody city-folk," the neighbour complained, voice tapering off at the end.

Qrow had the shame to be a bit sheepish, if not deterred. Still… he looked at the door and tried the handle.

It opened without resistance, having never been locked in the first place.

"Well, I guess it's not forcing my way in if it's left open," Qrow reasoned. Stepping inside, his eyes adjusted for the gloom and saw-

/-/

The Diary of a Killer.

It sounded like a good name for a movie or best seller in his head, but that was literally what Ren had in his hands now as he sat in the rickety rocking chair of Butcher Pete's shack, the first proper seat he'd had since jumping out of the Bullhead. Scavenging the Butcher's shack for anything useful had been the first order of business once the body had been… disposed far enough away to no longer stink. They'd opened the door to let the breeze ease the odour too, to the point it was almost negligible. And then, in the last hours of light they'd had, they'd ransacked the shack for everything they could find.

Some of it was practical. Already Jaune's ammo-fabricating quiver was chugging away, using some of the scrap metal and the alarms they'd recovered earlier along with the dust from Mouk's cave to make new dust ammunition for Ren. Bullets were harder than arrows, but by the morning he should have an entire new clip - a much-appreciated safety net going forward. Some of the butcher's tools had also been repurposed- or outright seized by Jaune, who had shifted his pack to make room for the skinning knives and meat-cleaving blades. Never know when that might be useful in their own hunting, Jaune had said, without dwelling on just what they might have cut before.

They'd even found some extra clothes - raggedly old patchy cloth that at the very least could be used to patch and mend their own wear. Some… unmentionables had been left behind, but at the very least they had something like a towel now, perfect for wiping themselves dry after rinsing themselves in the rain.

Other stuff was… less practical. A grass-filled bed they couldn't take with them. The chair Ren appreciated while he could. They'd even found an entire meat cellar of Butcher's Pete's game, the game he'd have to have had in the time since everyone else left the frontier. Most of it was rotted of course, but still. Butcher Pete had his name honestly too, it seemed.

And, of course, the diary. Ren had offered it to Jaune when he found it, but the other boy had rudely declined the chance to read it. Or rather, made clear his only interest was in burning it as kindling.

Heresy, as far as Ren was concerned. Books and the knowledge they held within should always be protected, which was why he'd even made space in his own little tote bag for the small book he was now reading. Where Pete had gotten such wares…

Well, that was just one more thing that this book might answer. Ren sat on a rickety chair in front of a table smashed in two, small booklet in hand, while Jaune slept on the ratty thread-bare bed. He read to the light of a small fire in the small stone fireplace, which lit the room with dancing shadows, casting light on the macabre bloodstains in the permanently discoloured wood.

He tried not to notice the horrible stain where the faunus had died. He had no idea how Jaune could actually sleep in a place like this, but sleep the hunter was doing while Ren took first watch. He'd been offered it the other way around of course, but sleep? After witnessing this?

No thanks. Perhaps when his body was a little more spent.

So much about the situation didn't make sense, from what - or who - had killed the faunus, to what had convinced the man to go out with just his spear? Even from his short time with Jaune he'd come to learn that hunters were a cautious and meticulous lot, and if Pete was patient enough to set up traps around his home, then he'd surely take the time to ready each weapon before he went out on a hunt.

And speaking of the traps, how had he been surprised in his own home at all? The area outside had been littered with traps. If a Grimm had set off the single trap, Pete should have known. And if Pete had known a Grimm was approaching, and not tried to shoot it, he'd have wanted to fight it when it came through the door. Mad or not, he wouldn't have gone out there.

So, Ren read the man's book in hopes of finding answers, and maybe a little curiosity.

The diary provided little in the way of answers. Despite the usual means of movies, it didn't in fact end with a monologue confessing his crimes and a long-jagged spike of ink to the edge of a page splashed with blood. It was actually a rather well-kept and organised little thing with pages upon pages of neat handwriting.

Pete had apparently been quite learned, though that made sense because from what little Ren had read, he'd come from Vale originally. Like Jaune's legend, Pete's diary was sparse on detail as to why he'd left Vale, or more likely what he'd done to be driven out. Ren was rather grateful for that.

He was also grateful for the relative lack of detail Pete put into cataloguing his killings. Pages often referred to `meat` and some being more `tender` than others – and he really tried hard not to think on that – but for the most part Pete referred to his kills as others would game, referencing a `good hunt` at times, and complaining of how sparse the hunting had become since the frontier receded and the nearby villages were forced to evacuate.

Apparently, he'd been keen on sneaking into one of those evacuations but had seen someone he recognised at the last moment and realised they would out him. Psychopathic the man might have been, but his diary showed him to be rather intelligent and educated. The perfect murderer, he realised. Who would suspect the well-mannered and soft-spoken city man of being the killer? There were plenty of reasons for a faunus to want to escape the racism inherent in Vale, after all. Nothing unusual about one coming to the frontier, or not wanting to talk about his past.

What little did reference his victims was… not easy reading. Like many mad men - not that Ren had much experience, but he assumed it was the case – Pete liked to paint himself as the victim, or at least as being misunderstood in some way. He complained about being chased away by his people after he'd hunted them so much meat and game, all because he'd `taken some meat in return`. When it started to talk about a young girl who had caught his eye for her pale skin and tender complexion, Ren grimaced and skipped ahead.

Towards the end of the diary, Pete spoke about his friends. Friends who were not, by any indication, cannibals of their own or aware of Pete's preferences for human flesh. He didn't recognise the names of any of them but assumed they were from the village Jaune had mentioned before. It seemed Pete's isolation had taken a toll on him, and there were regular references to Fiend, or `my puppy` in the little book. It seemed that as the years passed, he'd become very frightened of the prospect of his only companion dying of old age and leaving him alone.

 _He doesn't have to worry about that now, I guess._

It wasn't much of a silver-lining for the man.

With a sigh, Ren put down the book and leaned back. The mention of friends had drawn his mind to his own, as it often did when he had a moment of peace. They might be back at Beacon by now and in lessons, and Jaune certainly seemed to think so, but he wasn't so sure himself. The mere idea of his team going back without him was… he couldn't imagine it. Not really.

He didn't like to sound arrogant and really didn't feel like he was all that great anyway, but his teammates always acted like he was, and he knew that if it were any of them missing, he'd have turned the Grimmlands inside out to try and find them. He more than anyone would have been equipped to find them. It wouldn't surprise him if they still were looking for him in turn, whether he wanted it or not.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling they'd try. It was why he had to get back to them as soon as possible, so that they wouldn't do something silly and be hurt for it. If only their scrolls had any battery and the frontier a signal; life would have been much easier if everything was properly civilized out here.

A distant sound like thunder caught his attention, and after a second to tense and reach for his weapon, he realised it _was_ thunder and not the traps outside being sprung. Jaune had placed a new one over the gap in Pete's system once it was obvious he wasn't around to hunt them. Whatever had killed him, and whatever had attacked them before, was still out there.

Another sound caught his ear when he relaxed back into the seat, relaxing to the sound of the wooden creak. It was low at first and hard to make out, especially with the rain that had started to fall, but it sounded like…

/-/

"Kid?" Qrow called, a bit quieter now that he'd stepped into the house. "You there?"

There was no answer from within, which wasn't precisely approval for him to enter but wasn't a refusal, either. The corridor he'd stepped into was really less of a hallway and more a narrow tunnel flanked with wood and sporting a small pile of boots and shoes of leather, fur and other material. Off to one side he could see a doorway – lacking a door, more of a hole in the wall, really – that led through to a dining room of some kind.

The large table in the centre could have fit eight easily, but there were only four seats around it. Each was roughly carved from wood and decorated with patterns cut directly into the backing. It was rustic at best, a pauper's seat at worst. It was obvious from that, and the general _feel_ of the place, that nothing had been purchased that could instead be made with their own two hands.

There was no sound from the bottom floor, even when he poked his head in the kitchen and sniffed toward the open fire pit. No cutlery out, either, if they even had it. His eyes flicked back to the entrance instead and the rickety-looking staircase that led up to the second floor. He hadn't wanted to try that if he could help it. The thing looked like a death trap.

The first step creaked, making him wince and wait until it was done before he dared shift all his weight onto it. Despite the noise, the step held, and after a second's pause to make sure that wasn't a cruel illusion, he dared for another. The construction was solid enough, the noise notwithstanding, and he slowly made his way up with one hand on the rough banister. The floorboards of the second floor creaked just as bad, but at least the rough rug laid down helped muffle it somewhat.

"Place is bigger than it looks," he realised. Compared to the homes in Edge it was a palace, though it still would have ranked as one of the lowliest dives in Vale or any other city. The second floor appeared to be mostly living quarters, with doors leading off each side of a central corridor. Most of them were open, though not used. His eyes scanned over dusty beds and wooden chests, with only the shape and colour of a few trinkets to indicate whether it was a male or female who had lives inside. One or two were a little cleaner, presumably still lived in.

Many were not.

It was the last one he reached that was the cleanest, and the only one where the door was closed. Well worn and obviously recently washed, it couldn't have been the brat's, not when she'd been in Beacon for the last few months. A bow, unstrung, lay beside the door, and he realised just whose it was a second later.

It was the guide's; the one that Team RWBY had lost. Her brother, if he recalled…

There was no good reason to delay, not after violating so many people's privacy, but then… things like this were never easy. He was a good huntsman but a shoddy person, especially when it came to grief. You'd think living through it would make one more understanding, but, well… it didn't.

It'd make sense if the girl were here, though. Summer's room had become a shrine of sorts too, for a while. Where everyone had gone to think of the last encounter, the last memories, the last ways they'd said goodbye, not realizing it'd be the last.

What was going through her mind? There was only one way to find out.

Qrow tactfully, but firmly, knocked on the door.

A low growl answered, one that almost made Qrow reach for his weapon as arm-hairs raised. But only for a moment, before there was the sound of a shuffling and something hitting wood.

"Uncle? Hold on- give me a moment!" the feminine voice inside called, raspy with thirst and a suppressed sniffle. It was still a relieving response to hear. "I'm sorry, give me a second, I just-" excuses flowed as the source moved closer, the sounds of moving fabric accompanied no doubt by a wipe of the eyes and nose.

The door opened, and there she was, the last brat, the leader of the ill-fated Team JNPR, and the cause of this day's trouble and so much more. Blonde hair, smooth skin, and fair blue eyes ruined red with crying all framed a beaten girl who couldn't quite look him in the eyes.

"Uncle, I know what you're going to say but please…" she began, but then realized Qrow wasn't he.

"Oh," she paused, before covering one hand with the other and made a short, polite bow. "You're Ruby's Uncle, right? She told me you might come. I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in, I just…"

She trailed off, realizing his unnatural silence, and looked back up. Seeing his expression, she cocked her head to the side in the confusion. Blonde hair framed brilliant blue eyes that bore into his, despite a lack of recognition.

"I'm sorry, is there… something wrong?"

 _Blond hair framed brilliant blue eyes that bore into him, desperately urgent. "Please! Someone! Anyone! Our village is under attack, and my Dad can't handle it alone! We need help! We need a-"_

"-Huntsman? Huntsman, are you alright?"

Qrow stumbled back, face pale in horror.

"You- you're that-!"

/-/

Far, far away, Ren swore he heard it again. Something from outside.

There, again – a noise like a high-pitched whine with a little stutter. It was a whimper or a cry, and not from a human by the sound of it. Not Grimm either, since they wouldn't be calling out in pain if they were nearby.

Could it be the hunter's dog?

Grimm didn't bother killing animals, usually, and the chain had been snapped. Perhaps it had escaped. Maybe it had returned. Too late for its master, but-

The whimpering came again, closer – but not too close. He could just hear it faintly over the sound of the rain on the roof of the little shack. Was it possible the dog had noticed the house being used, and now thought its owner was still there?

He looked towards Jaune for an answer, but the hunter was asleep rolled over in a corner, fit snugly into his sleeping bag with his bow beside him. After tracking and marching all day, he was tired and probably wouldn't appreciate being woken up.

It wouldn't hurt to take a small look outside, though. Not to leave the house, of course, but at least to see if the dog had returned. If it was hurt, it wouldn't prove much of a threat, and if they could convince it to share some of their food… maybe they could recruit it as their own companion?

No Grimm would be able to sneak up on them with a dog around.

The door rattled a little as he opened it, the rain pelting off the wood as he pushed it out and stuck his head into the dark. The noise had stopped the moment he did, which made sense if the animal was nervous. Ren checked the post from before, but the wooden stake was still driven into the ground and the blood, chain and furrows of dirt and soil were as they'd always been, bar the fact it had now filled with dirty water to become a puddle.

He couldn't see much further in this blackness- the rain clouds covering the moon once more- and couldn't see the dog at all. Between heading out into the pitch-dark rain or waiting until morning…

He began to close the door, until the dog whimpered again.

This time, he stepped out of the door a pace, risking the rain that dampened his hair as he strained his hearing to pinpoint the sound. It was close, but not so close as to be upon them. It was somewhere off beyond the traps, in the trees towards the west or south.

The dog barked. It sounded excited now, almost hopeful, begging. It was also a little further away, though. Not as close to the house as he'd thought.

And then, faintly, he heard what he swore was laughter in the distance.

Grimm didn't laugh. Animals didn't laugh, either.

"Hello?" Ren tentatively called into the rain, looking out into the darkness.

Were there people out there? Survivors? Other hunters? Frontiers people who had stayed despite all the warnings?

Or people who had come in later regardless? Nomads? Huntsmen?

Friends…?

The dog barked again, eager and encouraging. It was a timbre he thought he recognized. He couldn't be sure through the rain, but still… Still…

"Ein? Zwei?" he called.

A happy yip… and then a hint of laughter, ringing like bells. Who else would never give up on him?

"…Julia?"

He stepped off the porch, and a branch cracked.

But not beneath his feet.

" _Ren!"_

Ren only had time to feel the malevolent intent, and see something reaching out of the dark, before everything went loud and black.

/-/

Ren came to on his back and with a ringing headache, which wasn't helped by the shaking.

"Wake up, wake up you damn Huntsman bastard," he heard above him. "Don't you dare do this to me now of all times…!"

Ren groaned, which was about the best he could do to say he was awake. It also said he ached, and his spine ached, and he had the feeling of splinters poking against him…

But none of that mattered to the blue eyes peering down upon him, eyes wide with- dare he say it- fear?

And then, upon seeing his eyes, Jaune punched him, lightly, in the chest. Slammed his hand down on the ribs, at least.

"Ren, you _idiot_ ," Jaune hissed, blinking enough for Ren to see. "What were you _thinking_?"

"Wha- what happened?" Ren groaned, trying to sit up. Jaune let him, and with a look around he could see he was inside the cabin once more. Suddenly the bloodstained floor didn't bother him as much anymore- not when it looked like half of the floor and a corner of the shack had been torn away, with naught but a few wires of Jaune's traps covering the corner.

"You tell me- I just asked you!" Jaune returned, even as he brought a canteen out and passed it to Ren. Ren accepted it easily to take a swig, even as Jaune checked the room- and the gaping hole- with him. "One moment I'm sleeping, the next I wake up and realize you're gone, and then you fly through the wall into the fireplace!"

Ah, that might explain the splinters and the headache- and why his aura felt like he'd been thrown into a wood chipper. He'd been the woodchipper to that shanty wall.

"I felt something attack me," Ren said. "From outside."

"That explains the alarms, at least," Jaune said, throwing an unquestionably cautious look outside. Now that he listened for it Ren could swear he heard a few of the exterior traps still rattling. "Whatever it was, it ran off when you flew in here. But still - it knocked a Huntsman like you all the way through the wall?" Jaune asked, a hint of surprise and wariness in his words, even Ren frowned and shook his head.

"No, I jumped," he clarified, the memories coming back slightly. The instinctive dodge… and the lack of instinctual aura before he hit the wooden wall, taking him by surprise as he'd thrown himself back and apparently through the wall. "It wasn't striking, it was… reaching. Grabbing. Everything else was instinct."

Jaune chilled.

"Did you say grabbing?" he asked.

"I think so," Ren said, shaking his head, thoughts still addled. "It was right after-" he sat straight up, remembering. "It's still out there!" he realized, mind lagging. "We have to warn them!"

"Them?" Jaune asked, obviously confused. "Them who?"

"My team!" Ren said, exhilaration powering through delirious exhaustion. "I knew it! My friends, your sister! They're still looking for us! They're close, I heard them, but we have to warn them about-"

He saw the hand approaching before he felt the slap. Even the flash of aura didn't stop the sting.

"I told you," Jaune hissed, glaring with all his might to get his point across. "Your team isn't here. My sister isn't here. No one but me is here! Now tell me, _what did you hear_?"

"I heard laughter," Ren said, shaken by Jaune's intensity. "And a dog barking in the dark."

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but Jaune looking like he'd seen a ghost wasn't it.

"A dog… barked?" Jaune repeated, almost whispering. "But it didn't come close?"

"Yeah," Ren said, now his turn to be confused. "It sounded hurt. I thought it might have been afraid of us, but when I stepped out-"

Jaune never heard what he'd intended to do, because Jaune had already stood up and marched directly to his bow, before grabbing it moving directly to the door and looking outside. He'd see nothing, of course, but…

"No, no, no, no, no," Jaune muttered, looking outside into the now-silent night. "It can't be- it can't be. I thought-"

"What?" Ren asked. "I thought it was Pete's dog at first- you know, after hearing it the last few nights- but-"

Jaune whirled. "What?!" he demanded, tripping over himself. "Why would you even want to see if you thought - You heard - why didn't you wake me?!" he demanded.

"For what? It was just a dog - you told me they're common here, right?" Ren asked. "And then you told me about Pete, and then - didn't you hear it too?"

I didn't. Of course I didn't, I was asleep, and thought-" Jaune growled. He clenched his eyes shut but didn't take a deep breath. "Of course it didn't try when I was awake. Damn it!" he snapped. "Damn it, damn it, damn it. I'm so stupid! How did I miss the signs? How did I not realise? The dog- the claw marks-"

"Jaune…?"

"And you! How stupid are you?" Jaune whirled, ire indiscriminate as his voice rose. "Dogs are social creatures! They travel in packs, or seek out humans, not hide in the darkness by themselves! Don't you know that? Didn't she tell you anything?"

"Who? About what?" Ren asked, too off-kilter to be much offended yet.

"That dog-stealing bitch! And-"

And then Jaune abruptly, obviously, remembered to compose himself, and did so with a deliberate pause to breath.

When he let it go, it looked at Ren with passionless-eyes, and an eerily-even voice.

"Tell me, Huntsman," Jaune began, looking him dead in the eye.

"Have you ever heard of The Legend of Dogsnatcher?"

* * *

 **CF's notes:**

* * *

 **Mixed thoughts and a lesson for all. Sometimes you have a scene in mind that's really great in your head, but that's not as easy to realize as you hoped. This chapter ended on one of them - a point the arc was always supposed to build towards but was a bit hard to reach along the ways. All my fault, and none Coeur's, who did the best with what I directed in the time I gave him.**

 **So, get ready to meet Dogsnatcher - the true villain of the arc, and the one always intended to be the first real boss for our boys to face. (Yes, once upon a time Mouk was a much smaller monster, figuratively speaking.). Butcher Pete? A side-show, a red herring, a monster to set the mood. Just a little legend we wanted to share, fitting that idea of spreading lore by legend. Some of you might have noted the discrepancies yourself. Why would a blood-thirsty cannibal be living in the abandoned frontier? Why the badly placed traps?**

 **Well, now you know. It wasn't Pete. And next chapter, we'll get to learn a little more about our new nemesis, and how it affects our boys.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 28th April**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, so this chapter is a little odd. You'll all have seen no update last week due to important real life work that CF had, but I'm not sure if it was misconstrued, misunderstood or if more work came out of nowhere, but CF has not had a final chance to go over THIS chapter, either. I have to update it, though. I simply don't have time to write _another_ Relic chapter. As such, while this chapter DOES follow CF's plans and intent, it may not be perfected in the way CF wants it.**

 **I'll apologise for that, but again, there isn't much I can do as I had to have _something_ posted.**

* * *

 **Director:** College Fool

 **Writer:** Coeur al'Aran

 **Cover Art:** Kegi Springfield

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

* * *

It started, as many disasters did, with a death.

A young boy under eighteen years of age found killed on the outskirts of the village with his chest torn open. Most of his meat and organs remained, torn asunder and left to rot in the sun. It was that which told the people it was a Grimm that had acted, and soon those who could fight were roaming the surrounding area, searching for the beast.

Days passed without sight or sound, and soon the people began to believe it just a wandering Grimm that had caught an unlucky boy. Like so many others before him, the fallen was soon consigned to the fate of a tragic encounter.

Until another died. Not a boy this time, nor a child, but rather an elderly woman, wise and experienced, though frail with age. The villagers were perplexed, not only because the old lady knew better than to travel alone, but because she had left the safety of the walls and travelled outside to be killed. That or she had been dragged out there, but with no blood trails to mark a path and no screams during the night, such seemed impossible.

When the third died – a little girl not eleven years old – the people knew that a Grimm had set up its den in their land, and a request was sent to the cities for a huntsman to come and deal with it.

While they waited, the local hunters did their best to track and find the beast, though they often met with no success. Those in the village were warned not to leave its walls and never to travel at night. By the time the huntsman arrived, a proud and powerful warrior from the cities, another villager had fallen.

This time, a hunter.

The shock of it sent reverberations through the community, even as the huntsman assured them all would be well now that he had arrived. To the other hunters, the death of one of their own was unthinkable, not through skill or great ability, but through simple caution. The man had died without his weapon, outside and on the outskirts of the village. For an experienced huntsman to travel alone in that situation, especially with the beast about, it was too suspicious.

A local hunter brought this to the attention of the huntsman hoping it would aid in his investigation, but the huntsman ignored it. That a civilian had died was tragic but no surprise. The Grimm chose everyone equally.

The hunter tried to argue, to explain that this was different – that his friend would not have travelled alone and that there was something more here, but the huntsman knew his training and bade the villagers stay behind. Alone, he travelled into the woodlands around the settlement, hunting for the monster which had already slain so many.

Frustrated, both at his lack of ability to stop the madness and his casual dismissal, the hunter chose to look into the matter himself. The death of one of their own spoke of something more and he knew there was truth in the signs the huntsman had chosen to ignore. Of particular surprise to him was that the fallen hunter's hound had not saved him, or at least alerted others to the danger. The hunter could not and would not have travelled alone without it so late at night.

The same was true of the elderly woman, he realised, and of the children from before. To those who lived surrounded by Grimm, dogs were a necessary protection. While a crafty Grimm might be able to sneak past, it was unusual that no alarm had been raised. Worse still, the dogs of those who had been slain were nowhere to be found. With a cold pit in his stomach, the hunter collected his traps, bow and dog, and set off into the wilderness.

The huntsman returned within twelve hours with news of Grimm slain. While initially sceptical, the huntsman took several hunters and the mayor of the village to the scene of the battle, revealing great gouges torn into the ground and tracks of several large Grimm. The huntsman had found and ambushed them close to the village, slaying all with the ease and power of a true huntsman.

"My work here is done," he declared. "Your village has been saved and the people are safe now."

But the village was frightened and uncertain, and the hunters were not so sure. They explained their fears to the huntsman who, although he looked down on them, understood their panic.

"I will stay for two more nights and patrol the land," he said. "Grimm are mindless and will attack the moment they see me. You will see that none do, and once you do, you will know that the threat has been dealt with."

And, true to his promise, the huntsman did stay. Each morning he would stride out into the Grimmlands, and every few hours he would return. The people watched as he marched through open terrain with not a care in the world. They watched as he scoured the nearby woods. They watched as he lit a bonfire and waited by it, shouting out to any Grimm that he was there.

No Grimm approached, and as the day turned into the second the people began to realise that the danger was well and truly over. Even so, the huntsman stayed another night. And, when the villagers awoke to find him hale and hearty in the morning, they rejoiced. The monster had been slain and the people were safe once more.

The hunter challenged the huntsman before he left, however.

"Grimm can be found anywhere," the hunter said. "What evidence is there that the ones you slew were responsible?"

"You have seen me walk the plains for two days," the huntsman replied. "If there were any other Grimm out there they would have attacked me. There are none that remain for I have slain them all."

The hunter disagreed. "Had the Grimm been so aggressive, we would have seen it when we walked those same plains. This Grimm hides. It lures and ambushes its prey."

"Grimm do not do that," the huntsman said, with the self-assured knowledge of one who had been trained to understand his prey. "Grimm are mindless beasts and attack their prey without warning. It is more likely your people were simply caught off guard."

"And the dogs that have gone missing?"

"Fled or lost," the huntsman replied.

The hunter was not satisfied, nor was he convinced, but faced with the adoration of the crowds and the cheers from the village, he held his tongue. The huntsman departed that night, returning to the city while the village turned back to normal life.

For one young boy this was not the case, however. Fourteen years old and training to become a hunter of his own, the boy had spent the day looking for his dog, who had gone missing that morning. None had seen it and many were those who claimed it would return, for it was trained well and loved its master.

Come night and no return, the boy became nervous, and set out to travel the village, calling its name. Young as he may have been, the boy was no fool and kept to the village. He called from the walls, the gates, and even poking his head outside.

It was two hours later when the boy, almost in tears, was forced to consider giving up for the night. Until, to his shock, he heard a sound.

His dog cried out for him.

The boy cried back, summoning him with a whistle, but the dog whined loudly, indicating that it was hurt or unable to move. Fearing his pet ensnared in a trap or hurt somehow, the boy rushed from the safety of the walls, following the whimpering sounds to a small collection of jagged rocks with a pool at the bottom. He splashed into them, calling his dog's name, desperate and drunk on hope and concern for his faithful companion. It whimpered back from a small cave set beneath the rocks.

Crying in relief, the boy splashed forward and into it, holding a small torch before him to illuminate the darkness. The beam shone about the cave, finding rocks and lichen, a shallow pool of water, and finally a fluffy paw. The torch shone further up, revealing his beloved dog.

Dead.

Its throat slit, its insides spilled across the rock floor.

The boy fell back and screamed. It was this which saved his life, for the claws that would have beheaded him instead whistled harmlessly above. He fell back into the water with a loud splash and screamed again, eyes locked onto the tall figure above him, a Beowolf stood on its hind legs, bone mask cracked and teeth dripping with saliva. Its red eyes stared down on him. Its lips parted. And to the boy's horror, the sound of his dog's agonised whimper echoed from that terrible maw.

The boy screamed.

A voice cried out.

And a huge dog _barrelled_ into the back of the monster.

As the Beowolf fell, a figure crashed into the water, taking the boy under the shoulders and dragging him away. The hunter from before, the one who had not believed, hauled the boy to shore and whistled for his hound, summoning the dog back before the monster could harm it. The two and one dog made their way across the rocks, the boy in tears and the hunter fearing for both their lives.

Below, the beast that had stalked the village roared its anger and gave pursuit. Its great claws gouged into stone as it scaled the rocks like some great spider, cutting the two off before they could fully escape. The hunter, seeing their path blocked, cursed and led the boy aside, down a different path and further away from the village, away from safety.

The Grimm had known the path of their retreat, had understood how to prevent it, had _strategized_ and laid a trap for its prey. This was no mindless beast, but rather an intelligent monster. The hunter realised this as it chased them, but his was not to be surprised, for a hunter always assumed the worst and was prepared for it.

As the monster came upon them, he hauled the boy into a thicket of trees and off the main path, causing the beast to follow. With a barked command he sent his dog to snap at its heels, calling it back the moment the Grimm tried to focus on it. When it did, he would fire an arrow, pinning a shaft into its body and whittling away.

Eventually, the Grimm lost what little patience it had. With a mighty roar it ignored the hound and leapt for its prey, seeking to kill them at a moment where the hunter and the boy were pressed against a tree, trapped for its pleasure.

Or so it might have seemed. The hunter pushed the boy aside and leapt the other way, dragging on a rope that hung from a branch as he did. As the Grimm landed, its fore-foot dug into a pile of leaves. With a loud, mechanical snap, the metal trap sealed shut, biting into flesh. The rope the hunter had pulled on caused it to pull back, dragging the beast up and against the tree, locking it in place.

The hunter considered it then but decided he could not risk the killing blow. He had no arrows, only a knife for a weapon and his dog was already lightly wounded from the first encounter. There was also the boy to protect. Taking him in hand, the two made their way back to the village to tell their story. Equipped with fresh arrows and accompanied by twenty of the strongest men, the hunter led them back to the location of his trap.

Only to find the snap-trap swinging in the wind, its teeth wet with blood and a Grimm's arm dissolving on the floor, gnawed off at the elbow.

In the distance, a dog whimpered.

/-/

Jaune finished his tale with a sigh, sat in the centre of the cannibal's cabin with a small fire flickering between them. "Ever since, he was given the name of Dogsnatcher. An ambush predator that would abduct and kill animals, then mimic their cries of distress to grieving owners. When they inevitably sought to rescue their beloved pets, they too would fall to the monster. And it looks like it's learned to use traps now as well. Damn it."

"A Grimm that learns," Ren commented. "That's… interesting."

"Interesting? It's bad news is what it is. That damn thing _watches_ people and figures out their weaknesses and knows when to retreat and hide. This is the last thing we need."

"Is it really so much of a problem?"

Jaune shot him an angry look. "Did you even listen to what I just said!?"

"No, I did, and I can see why Dogsnatcher would be a threat to civilians out here – his method of luring people out is disgusting, but also rather cunning. What I'm less sure of is why that's such an issue to use, however. Neither of us has a dog to be lured away by and now that I know what it was I've been hearing, I'm hardly going to wander off alone."

"And besides," he went on, "the thing only has one arm now, right? It already avoided that huntsman because it knew it couldn't fight him, and now it's even weaker. I don't see how this would be a threat to us."

"You weren't so calm last night," Jaune spat.

"Because we had no idea what it was or how strong," he reasoned. "If this thing is going to keep stalking and watching us, we'll still have to ration our sleep and be on guard at all times. Hm, with that in mind, it might actually be better not to let it continue. If we hunted it down and killed it now, that would save us effort in the future, right? How many Grimm can there be which know how to disarm your traps?"

He expected the hunter to be on board with the idea, but Jaune slammed a hand down against the floorboards instead. "Are you even listening to yourself? This is _exactly_ what that legend was supposed to warn people against. You're acting no better than that useless huntsman!"

Ren blinked, caught off guard by the sudden anger. "What?"

"You're talking about going after Dogsnatcher when that's _exactly_ what it wants. It's an ambush predator that lures people out, and now you're saying you want to go find it. Well tell me genius, how is that any different from you being lured out in the first place?"

"Because I'm aware of what it is and prepared for combat," Ren said, quite reasonably. "That's a rather marked difference on a young boy looking for hid go, or even Pete the Butcher going out alone because he thinks his own is in danger." And that explained where the cannibal's dog was, of course, slain by Dogsnatcher. "I'm fully armed, trained and specifically looking to be ambushed by a three-legged Beowolf. I'm prepared."

The traps would be an issue and were obviously a new trick Dogsnatcher had picked up. Ironically, he'd probably learned the value of them at the moment he lost his arm, though whether he'd learned it from the hunters in that area, or from them, was yet to be seen. Either way, he wasn't too proficient with them yet, since that trap earlier in the bushes was placed in a terrible spot.

The biggest danger was what had befallen Pete here, that Dogsnatcher would _remove_ a trap around your sleeping area and then lure you out. A hunter, assuming there could be no Grimm for no trap had been sprung, would be left all the more unaware of the danger. It was insidious really, but again it was only a threat to the average person.

"Arrogance," Jaune said, shaking his head. "I was right; you _are_ as bad as the huntsman in that story. He assumed he knew everything about Grimm, too. He assumed nothing could trick him, and as such he failed in his duty. He left and forced the village to deal with the problem themselves. And just like you, he refused to listen to the words of someone he considered `lesser` than he."

Ren chose not to respond to that one, even if he did feel an uncharacteristic spike of anger. It wasn't that he wasn't listening; he'd pored over the legend in his head and not interrupted once, even as he instinctively realised it was badly tinted with Jaune's anti-huntsman prejudice.

A story by locals on how one of those `city-folk` had failed but local wisdom and hard work had paid off. It was just what he would have expected from them, and more so from Jaune. That didn't mean the legend wasn't true of course, but it was coloured in such a way as to make the huntsman in it seem like an idiot.

"Fine," he said, relenting. "What do you suggest, then? Dogsnatcher is going to follow us and keep messing with our camp. We're literally the only humans out here, so I doubt he's going to get bored and wander off."

"East," Jaune said. "We'll travel east."

"To the south-east pass and back to the frontier?"

Jaune didn't answer, but instead focused on packing his belongings away, one eye on the door at all times as if he expected the monster to come charging through. Ren half-hoped it would, if only so they could put an end to it. It wasn't arrogant to think they could take a Beowolf head on, and he had listened carefully to Jaune's story.

The beast wasn't like Mouk with his incredible size and strength, but rather something that ambushed and laid traps. Fighting it in an open engagement would be the best way to deal with it, but, if Jaune wanted to do things this way, he supposed there was nothing he could do.

It wasn't like he could just leave the hunter out here.

/-/

Jaune pushed him hard.

He'd always done so, but this time it felt so much worse and Ren wasn't sure how much longer it could go on. It was impossible to ignore the ache in his leg now from that wound Mouk had given him what felt like weeks ago. He'd fought through it at first, but now it couldn't be hidden any longer. He was injured, and the time in the wet and damp had not done much to help him heal.

Were it not for that, he might have been able to keep up with the hunter more effectively, but as it was he continued to stumble and struggle, holding them back as he limped through woodland and over open plains.

Such did not go unnoticed by Jaune. "Quit dragging your heels, we need to make good time and get out of here."

"I-I'm not doing this on purpose," Ren panted, wincing once more as agony flared up his shin. "We need to slow down. I'm going to pull a muscle at this rate."

"Can't keep up, city boy?" Jaune mocked.

Not really, but he didn't want to admit that. With gritted teeth, Ren pushed on, forcing himself harder and pushing what aura he could afford to spare down to his injured leg. _Just bear it for now,_ he told himself. _Once Jaune realises we need to fight this thing, we can slow down again._

Such were his thoughts but he'd not banked on Jaune's stubbornness and they walked for hours and hours, far past time when they'd have normally called a break and into the afternoon. Ren drank and ate while he trekked, struggling with a canteen and some ration bar and stuffing them away. He was soon covered in sweat.

It was no better for Jaune, the hunter being experienced but not immune to the fatigue. If anything, his paranoia made it worse, for Ren caught him looking around at every opportunity, often glancing back the way they'd come and touching one hand to his bow.

Of Dogsnatcher, there was no sign. Ren didn't delude himself into thinking that meant it wasn't there or didn't exist, but if so, it wasn't willing to show itself. About the only solace they had was that no traps impeded their path, Jaune's pace being so relentless that not even a Beowolf could circle ahead and ambush them.

They'd stuck to a mostly eastern path judging from the sun, but Ren assumed they would be turning south by south-east soon enough. From the map he'd seen before, that would lead to the most direct route out of the Grimmlands and back into what Jaune called the Wildlands, marking the boundary to frontier territory. Still Grimm-infested, of course, but so much less dangerous than what they currently had to deal with. Still, wouldn't it have been better to travel directly south-east?

In the end, rest didn't come because Jaune stopped them. It came because Ren collapsed. It wasn't something he'd seen coming, but one step over a fallen log proved too much and his leg buckled. He fell with a startled cry, smacking his elbow against the log.

"You idiot!" Jaune hissed. "Do you _want_ it to find us?"

"I-I'm sorry." Except that he wasn't, he really wasn't. This was hardly a life choice he'd made, neither getting lost in this place or suffering an injury for it. "I just need some rest and I'll be good to go again."

"Rest? We don't have time to rest!"

"Well we'll have to make some!" Ren snapped back. The suddenness of it shocked even Jaune, who had perhaps thought him impervious to anger. No such luck and right now with his aura low and leg pulsing with pain, his temper wasn't what it could have been. "If you want to go on ahead, fine – go. I can't follow you even if I wanted to, so you'll have to leave me here."

Jaune reared up. "I'm _trying_ to save your life!"

"And I'm trying to accommodate that – but I _cannot_ go another step. The body has limits."

"You're joking? I'm not even a huntsman and I'm-"

"You slept last night!" Ren yelled, losing what little patience he had. "Maybe you don't remember for all of your insults and calling me useless, but it was _me_ who stood guard. You drove us on the moment you found out about this stupid Beowolf. I've not slept in a day and a half!"

He hated being angry, always had, and he prided himself on his calm control, but damn it if Jaune wasn't good at pushing his buttons. It was the pain too, not to mention the exhaustion, but even so, he couldn't help but feel that had this been Julia or Pyrrha, he wouldn't have been driven to such frustration.

It was all he could do to glare at Jaune from his spot on the floor, one hand clutching his leg and the other on the log he'd tripped over. Sweat dripped into his vision and made everything hazy. He felt nauseous, too. A fine addition to an already sorry state of being.

"Three hours," Jaune finally decided, speaking with the kind of magnanimous tone reserved for a ruler sentencing his servant to death. "You get three hours and that's it. If Dogsnatcher is chasing us-"

"Then he'll catch us either way. Grimm don't give up and you know it. We can't put enough distance between us and him to lose him, and he'll never stop hunting us. We're the only people for a hundred miles or more." Ren panted harshly, but still managed to push himself into a sitting position. "We need to hunt him, Jaune. We can't ignore him."

The hunter scowled and brought a trap out from his bag. "Take your three hours while you can, huntsman. After that, we move again, even if I have to drag you myself."

"Blasted idiot," Ren hissed.

He took his three hours as best he could. It wasn't nearly enough to recovery fully, but Jaune didn't give him a minute longer.

Three hours later, they were moving once more.

/-/

"So, what's the plan?"

"Plan?" Jaune asked, looking back briefly.

"Yes, the plan," Ren repeated, firm in both voice and purpose. "We've been travelling east for almost a full day now and you've shown little sign of wanting to stop. You're taking us away from Dogsnatcher's territory, I presume."

"Yes."

"What happens if he follows us?"

"We keep moving and escape."

This again? Ren sighed. "And if he _continues_ to follow us?"

There was no answer.

"You _do_ have a plan for what we do if that happens, don't you? You're not just assuming everything will go okay without a single problem."

The lack of an answer only annoyed him further, but he tried – for the sake of what relationship they might have – to not let that show.

"Did Dogsnatcher take your dog?" he asked, instead.

Jaune's head snapped back. "What?"

"Your dog, you said you had one once, but that you didn't anymore. Did Dogsnatcher take it?"

"No." Jaune paused to hack some vines away from in front of them. "No, it was something – someone – else. I've never met Dogsnatcher in person, or at least not knowingly. I don't hunt out here. Not anymore."

"Anymore? You've been here before?"

Jaune hesitated, though only for a moment. "Of course. Wouldn't be much use guiding us if I hadn't. It's impossible to tell if you've ever met Dogsnatcher, though. I've heard a lot of sounds out in the Grimmlands. Who can tell what's real and what isn't?"

If Jaune's lack of knowledge on Dogsnatcher's ability to remove traps was any indication, they hadn't crossed paths, though Ren supposed that could have been a new development. _Maybe it learned it from us by inspecting that first trap of Jaune's._ It was a possibility, but it still didn't explain just why the hunter was so averse to hunting it. Ren stumbled on another root, catching himself on a tree with one hand. As he panted for breath, he looked up – and saw a thin sliver of silver before him.

"Jaune, wait!"

The hunter froze, tensing as he prepared for violent conflict. When it didn't come, he turned with a sigh. "What is it?"

"There's thread in front of me. It's a trap."

He'd only caught sight of it because of luck. Jaune moved over quickly, skirting around to approach from behind Ren so that he wouldn't set it off. The thread was thin, but not quite as thin as what Jaune used for his own, making it a little more visible in the low light. Jaune tested it with a finger, making it twang lightly, but not setting it off.

"Looks like a tripwire of some sort. There isn't enough room for a spike trap, and I doubt a Grimm could actually construct one. Intelligence or not, claws just aren't dextrous enough."

"What is it, then?" Ren panted, grateful for even a moment's pause. Even so, he slipped one of his weapons into his hand, loaded with the dust that Jaune had helped fashion for him before. They weren't high-quality rounds but they would do.

"It looks like a snare. See how it travels up over that branch?" Jaune pointed. "If you stepped on this, it would snap and drag you up."

"Does that mean he's nearby?"

"No telling. It might just be something he put up and left, maybe even weeks ago. But it's possible," he added, watching the trees nervously. "If he truly understands how these work, he might be close, ready to take advantage if we fall for it."

Ren nodded. That was what he'd thought. Without warning, he reached out and slapped a hand down on the thread, triggering it. There was a whistle and a snap as the rope shot left, a noose streaking out of the bushes where they might have stood. Jaune cried out in shock, which was convenient given the intent, and just for the sake of it Ren echoed the cry as convincingly as he could.

"Arghh, no! Help!" He then slammed his Semblance down over himself, concealing his emotions from view.

Jaune gasped and turned on him, but the hunter's complaints were cut off by a sudden rustle to the side and a loud growl as a shape hurtled towards them. He scrambled for his bow, but Ren beat him to it, aiming Stormflower at the bush and squeezing off three shots.

They struck something. There was a cry and a whimper, similar to a dog's and yet impossibly so, for those rounds had been aimed at least four feet up. The whimpers continued, spooked away as Ren fired another shot, pinging off a rock and earning a frantic yelp.

The bushes stopped rustling. The forest became quiet once more – though only for a moment.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jaune hissed, gripping Ren's arm tight and hauling him around. The hunter was furious.

"Ascertaining the situation," Ren replied. "We now know he's following us and that he doesn't intend to give up. We also know he can be hurt, unless that sound was our imagination." And for the sake of evidence, Ren pushed Jaune's hands off him and stepped into the bushes, only having to go twenty paces or so to find a splatter of blood. Jaune regarded it warily.

"It bleeds," Ren said, checking his remaining ammunition. Eight or more shots remaining in this one, twelve in the other. "I was able to wound it this easily, which means killing it if it did attack wouldn't be that much harder."

Jaune snapped back to reality with an angry growl. "I've told you, the real threat is his traps!"

"And I didn't underestimate those. I asked you exactly what kind of trap it was, and only when I knew it was safe did I set it off – pointedly with neither of us caught in it." There'd been no risk, and some genuine reward. Even if Dogsnatcher hadn't fallen, they'd secured the knowledge he was around and also that he was vulnerable to standard hunter-fare. "In your story, you said that the reason the huntsman couldn't kill him was because he underestimated Dogsnatcher. I'm not doing that, Jaune. If we can find him, we can kill him."

"Is that all you care about, killing Grimm?"

"No, not at all. I couldn't care less normally and I'm hardly suggesting we go out of our way to find him. But _he is hunting us_ , and that's not going to stop until he's dead. Or we are." He put his weapon away and sighed. "I'd rather it not be the latter." If he'd hoped his logic would win Jaune over, he was wrong, but in truth he'd known it wouldn't.

"Don't get cocky, huntsman. It's that kind of thinking that'll get you killed."

"What's your problem, Jaune? You've been like this ever since we got out here."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the fact I'm stuck out here in the Grimmlands with you," Jaune spat. "You ever think of that?"

"You were fine with that back in Mouk's domain. Whatever happened to us having to trust one another? When did that change to only me trusting you, and you refusing to listen to a word I say?" They'd seemed so close to getting along when Mouk fell.

What had gone wrong? Pete? Dogsnatcher? It was impossible to tell.

"Nothing is wrong, city boy. Let's keep moving."

"South-east?" Ren asked.

"No. East."

Not towards the pass, then. Ren's brow furrowed but he followed without complaint; or rather, without verbal complaint. Whatever Jaune's problem was, and whatever had set him off, one thing was becoming increasingly clear.

Jaune was becoming a problem…

/-/

It was wet, dark and cold. Rain drizzled down in a way that didn't drench them but left their clothes clinging to their body, damp. The only reason they'd come to a halt was because Jaune stumbled. He couldn't go any further. Ren couldn't either, but he'd reached his limit over two hours ago and had been running on fumes ever since, burning aura instead of stamina.

"We have to rest," Ren called, forced to raise his voice over the rain. "Jaune, you're going to kill us if we continue."

"I…" The hunter scowled. "Make camp."

"Out here!?" Ren gestured to the mostly open terrain around them, which offered little in the way of cover, shelter or much of anything. "Shouldn't we find a cave?"

"It'll expect us to do that. We'd be walking straight into a trap."

"It's raining!"

"We'll live. If we're lucky, it'll drive Dogsnatcher out of the open. Anywhere he isn't, we want to be."

Ren would have given anything to be somewhere else, too, and preferably without a stubborn companion who refused to see sense. As it was, he lacked the energy to argue and threw off his pack instead. He dug around in it, fishing out some wood. Lighting a fire in this weather would be a nightmare, but at this point he was desperate for a way to dry off.

"No fire," Jaune said.

"You're joking. Tell me that's a poor joke."

"A fire will give us away."

"He's already following us!"

"No fire," he repeated, decision made.

For a moment, Ren considered ignoring him. He also considered knocking Jaune out if he tried to argue, but such thoughts – cathartic as they may have been – served no one. With a snarl he couldn't quite conceal, Ren threw the wood back into his pack and strapped it shut. "Forget Dogsnatcher. We'll freeze to death out here."

"We can wrap up."

Yes, and then there sleeping bags would become damp as well, he didn't bother to say. Jaune knew it well enough and had already made up his mind. Nothing _he_ said would change it. "You might as well take first rest," he spat. "I had mine earlier."

"No fire," Jaune said again.

Ren shot him a glare. "I heard you the first time."

Their meal went in silence, partly due to the soggy and unsatisfying oat bars, but also because Ren couldn't bring himself to speak without anger in his voice, and Jaune was too distracted, scanning the horizon at every moment, his hand occasionally drifting to his bow, and gripping it each time a sound echoed through the area. He was jumpier than Nora.

When he finally accepted that nothing, at least for now, was going to happen, Jaune moved to prepare his bag. "Don't follow any sounds," he warned.

"I heard the legend."

"Not even if it sounds like people."

" _I_ _heard the legend_ ," he repeated. "I'm not an idiot. Get some sleep."

Eventually, the hunter complied, although Ren hardly failed to note how long it took Jaune to fall asleep. The hunter was normally out the moment his head hit the pillow, in what he had assume was a skill he'd mastered over years of sleeping in dangerous locations. His panic over the Dogsnatcher seemed to have overwhelmed it.

Ren didn't share it, even as he tried to. An intelligent Grimm was certainly cause for concern, and Dogsnatcher had shown some very cunning intelligence, too, but he was still just a Beowolf, and as susceptible to a blade or bullet as any other – as evidenced by the wounds he'd caused it earlier. It hadn't even been able to kill Pete instantly, but had instead wounded him in an ambush and let him retreat to his cabin to die.

Since that kind of behaviour was unusual for a Grimm, intelligent or not, he had to assume it was because Pete – even ambushed and injured – had scared it away. Predators used hunting techniques that either complimented their skills or made up for shortcomings. Dogsnatcher was already down an arm, so it was possible the techniques it was using on them was because it _couldn't_ hold its own in a normal fight.

Now, if only he could convince his stubborn companion of that. _A forlorn hope,_ he thought. _Despite what he claims, the trust we share only goes one way. I'm a burden to him._ And in some ways, Ren knew he was. When it came to survival, gathering food or making camp, then yes, he was a burden, but surely Jaune knew if Grimm actually did find them and attack, his skills as a huntsman would hold. Not that it mattered since Jaune seemed determined not to let that happen.

Less than an hour into his watch, the sounds began.

Ren's eyes shot up at the first sound – the bark of a dog. Whether it was Dogsnatcher's favourite or just an instinctual sound was unknown, but this time he didn't fall for it, nor did he make any move to leave the camp.

It had found them again, then…

Or perhaps it had never lost them, despite Jaune's best efforts. Two people tired and injured could hardly hope to outpace a Beowolf, and if you were intelligent enough to lay traps, you were intelligent enough to follow tracks.

But would it be intelligent enough to know better than to attack? Ren's hands fell gently into his lap, expelling Stormflower between his knees, the weapons hidden by his legs. He did his best to appear unaware and unconcerned. The sounds were coming from behind, although they weren't close. Not yet, anyway.

The whimpering grew louder, moved closer.

Ren's muscles tensed.

The bag next to him burst to life with a yell, blanket tossed aside as the hunter within roared to life, nocked an arrow and loosed it into the darkness, in the direction of the sounds. There was a startled yelp followed by rustling grass and leaves as Dogsnatcher fled.

Jaune stood, one knee on the wet grass and his chest rising and falling as he took in great gulps of air. "It was here!?" he gasped. "Dogsnatcher."

"Yes," Ren replied easily.

The hunter rounded on him. "Why didn't you wake me up!?"

"What good would it have done?" he asked in turn, frustrated that the ambush he'd meticulously prepared was now compromised. "You've said before that you won't hunt him, nor let me. What would waking you have achieved if we can't even leave the camp?"

In the distance, the sounds began again, trying to lure them out despite that both had down they wouldn't be fooled. Ren nodded to it.

"See? Whether or not we frighten him off, he's going to stay close to try and draw us out. It doesn't make a difference if you're awake or not. We both still need sleep, and it's my turn to stand watch. Dogsnatcher isn't going to attack. Not now that it knows we're both awake and alert." The previous approach had been probing, after all. Now, it wouldn't dare come near. It would lay traps instead. "Why are you so afraid of it?" he asked.

"I'm not afraid," Jaune snapped, eyes locking to his. "I'm wary."

"You've been wary before without leaping out of bed and firing an arrow randomly into the night."

Jaune huffed and whispered something under his breath, laying his bow beside him. He didn't slip back into the sleeping bag, however, too awake for that now. It was an odd thing, especially given how calm the hunter had always been.

"My chance to sleep, then?" he asked when it was clear no answer to his previous questions would be forthcoming.

"If you can," Jaune snorted.

He'd have no problem, actually. The sleeping bag would be a lot drier than being sat outside, and Jaune's traps – not to mention the hunter himself – would alert him if Dogsnatcher approached. Even then, he doubted the Beowolf would. The constant dog sounds made it clear it still relied on its lure to catch its prey. Ren snuggled into his sleeping bag and pulled it shut over his head, trying to cut the rain off before it hit his face. Exhausted and soaked to the bone, he was asleep moments later.

/-/

It was still raining when Jaune woke him up, though the sun had begun to rise, bathing the valley in the light of the early morning. It was no less miserable for it and the moisture in the air had kicked up a thick mist that clung to the landscape.

"Come on," Jaune said. "We'll eat while we move."

Ren sighed and dragged himself out. His leg hurt still, but the muscle pain was mostly fatigue. His injury couldn't really be felt, which likely wasn't a good sign. He stored his bag away methodically and pulled his shoes back on. When he stood, he took his first glance at Jaune and frowned.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks," the hunter snorted, bringing down his traps. "You don't look so hot yourself, city-boy."

"No, I'm serious, Jaune. You look like you're about to pass out. You didn't get enough sleep last night."

"I'll be fine. I know my limits better than you do."

Perhaps, but it was clear from the rings around his eyes, and the pace of his breathing, that he'd reached it. The hunter was on his last legs, and all thanks to the beast that stalked them. "We could still hunt it down and kill it," he said. "You wouldn't have to do anything other than point me in the right direction."

"I'm pointing you that way right now," Jaune said, shrugging his pack onto his back. "We're headed east."

Ren sighed. "If you say so…"

Wet, miserable, and with little progress having been made, the two slogged out once more. Behind them, and seeming to echo all around, canine whimpers and breathing sounded.

* * *

 **Okay, there we go. No note from CF as I can't reach, but one from me, I suppose. This chapter was a bit of a troubling one for me, not only because both our work schedules collided in terrible ways, but because it was a transition with an odd focus I'm not overly sure I succeeded with. Ren and Jaune are at a crossroads of purpose, with Ren believing the correct option is to deal with Dogsnatcher and Jaune wanting to try and escape him.**

 **Who is right? Who is wrong? Who can say.**

 **Well, CF can, but CF isn't here.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 19th May**

 **P a treon . com (slash) Coeur**


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